The Lost Malfoy
by Hattie1997
Summary: "It has come to my attention that The Malfoy Curse ... broken ... Terminated ... Failure will be punishable in the worst form ... Go, now, my faithful follower, and bring me back the child." Fifteen years after being kidnapped, Cassiopeia Malfoy has returned, and with her, she brings confusion, destruction, and love...most fully in the hands of one James Sirius Potter. AU
1. The Next Generation - Ages

_**Fourth Year**_

Hugo Weasley (Ron and Hermione) - Hufflepuff - Mismatched

Lily Potter (Harry and Ginny) - Gryffindor - Mismatched

Daniela Roserri (Hugo and Lily) - Ravenclaw - Mismatched

Jason Danivon (Hugo and Lily) - Slytherin - Mismatched

_**Fifth Year**_

Dominique Weasley (Bill and Fleur) - Gryffindor

Rose Weasley (Ron and Hermione) - Slytherin

Scorpius Malfoy (Draco and Astoria) - Slytherin

**Cassiopeia Malfoy** (Draco and Astoria) - Slytherin

Elsa Driana (Cassiopeia's friend) - Slytherin

Anastasia Krum (Cassiopeia's friend) - Slytherin

Albus Potter (Harry and Ginny) - Slytherin

_**Sixth Year**_

Antonella Clark (James' fling) - Ravenclaw

Molly Weasley II (Percy and Audrey) - Hufflepuff

Lucy Weasley (Percy and Audrey) - Ravenclaw

Dylianna Weasley (Fred and Alicia) - Gryffindor

Septimus Malfoy (Draco and Astoria) - Slytherin

Dalton Grey (Alexis' fake boyfriend) - Gryffindor

_**Seventh Year**_

Abraxus Malfoy (Draco and Astoria) - Slytherin

Roxanne Weasley (George and Angelina) - Gryffindor - New Marauders

George Weasley II (Fred and Alicia) - Gryffindor - New Marauders

Fred Weasley II (George and Angelina) - Gryffindor - New Marauders

**James Sirius Potter** (Harry and Ginny) - Gryffindor - New Marauders

_**Graduated**_

Victoire Weasley (Bill and Fleur - 22) - Ravenclaw

Teddy Lupin (Remus and Tonks - 23) - Hufflepuff

Tom Weasley (Charlie and Ariette - 23) - Gryffindor


	2. The Malfoy Curse

**This is my new story. In case you didn't check before, this is James Sirius Potter / OC with the daughter of Draco and Astoria Malfoy being the OC. Hope you all like it and any reviews will be welcome. Thanks xxx**

**The Malfoy Curse**

Lord Voldemort – otherwise known as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or The Dark Lord – raised a hand over his head. It had been years since Harry Potter had graduated from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and now they were back there for the moment of truth. He now had three children. The eldest, James Sirius Potter, would be turning seventeen in a couple of weeks, but had been enlisted in keeping the youngsters at home, much to his displeasure. He, along with his three best friends, Fred II and Roxanne – George and Angelina's children – and George II – Fred and Alicia's eldest – had been nicknamed the New Marauders, to the delight of many and the displeasure of few. The middle child, Albus Severus Potter, had just turned fifteen, and was a gangly lad who had single-handedly broken years of rivalry with his friendship with Scorpius Malfoy, Draco Malfoy's youngest son. The youngest, Lily Luna Potter, would soon be turning fourteen and, along with Hugo Weasley – Ron and Hermione's youngest – Daniela Roserri – a Ravenclaw in their year – and Jason Danivon – a cunning Slytherin – had been nicknamed _Mismatched_. This was due to Hugo's induction into Hufflepuff and Lily's admittance into Gryffindor, meaning that they had all four houses in their little clique.

The former Tom Riddle had been in hiding for the best part of thirty-five years, slowly gathering strength and power, but now he was back where it had all started. To the shock of many, he knew he wasn't going to win, he could see the determination clouding Harry's eyes, the ferociousness pulling the muscles taunt in the side of the Light, and the pure hatred directed towards him. In years to come, many would speculate at what had permitted him to do what he did next, but none could be certain. None-the-less, as he raised his arm, the Elder Wand clutched firmly into his grip, and pointed it a Harry Potter, his free arm was delving into the confines of his cloak, a piece of yellowing parchment being pulled out.

"Avada Kedavra."

"Expelliarmus."

A flash of green light…

And it was all over

**XxX**

The figure, who had before been standing firm and tall in front of Harry, slowly crumbled to the floor, before disintegrating into a grey pile of ash at his feet. The parchment that had previously been clutched in Voldemort's fist fluttered to the ground, a slight sigh on the wind. A cheer rose up, Harry Potter at the centre of the hoarding masses, a triumphant grin curling across his countenance. Ginny Potter came to his side, one hand holding roughly onto his shoulder. He nodded. With a slight _'pop' _that went almost unnoticed, she disappeared from view. Harry's brother-in-law, a tall man filled almost to the brim with burns, clunked forward, a deep smile on his scarred face.

"Impressive, Harry. Always knew you could do it."

"Thanks, Charlie," the reply was instantaneous, Harry's head turning only slightly to catch his eye before turning back to survey the surroundings once more. He was getting restless even though his wife had only been gone for a couple of minutes. Looking around he noticed that many of his sister-in-laws had also disappeared, most likely to retrieve their children from home. The dead were still being identified and he was loath to bring his children into this harsh atmosphere, but he had no choice. Their effort would be needed in order to restore Hogwarts to its former glory.

"Harry."

Kingsley Shaklebolt was calling his, one black hand raised over his head. He was dressed in his favourite royal-purple robes, the bottom of which was singed slightly. Harry chuckled. Kingsley was probably the only person in the world aside from Albus Dumbledore who could come out of a fight looking as good as when they'd gone in.

"This was found within his robes."

The gruff voice pierced his mind and Harry turned, taking in the black material that was hunched over Kingsley's arm before turning his attention to the yellowing parchment before him. It appeared to be a letter, but it also appeared to be in code.

"Hermione."

He called across to his best friend, who had just returned with her two children, Rose and Hugo. She turned, frowning at him for disturbing her reunion time with his other best friend and brother-in-law, Ron. Nonetheless, she moved towards them, Kingsley shuffling over to accommodate her. As if she knew exactly what she was being asked to do, she took the parchment from Harry's limp hand and examined it in silence for a moment.

"It's Latin." And then, slightly quieter, as if she did not want to be heard, she muttered, "How cliché."

"Can you read it?" Harry noticed the eagerness in his own voice but refused to acknowledge it, keeping his whole attention firmly on Hermione. He had not even realised that Ginny had returned with James, Albus and Lily, and was currently arguing with two Aurors across from him who refused to allow her to see her husband. "What does it say?"

Hermione pursed her lips before calling over Ginny, an expert in the field despite her Chaser status. The two women began mumbling to themselves, eyes riveted onto the parchment before them, small, equal frowns creasing their foreheads.

"It's a letter," Hermione confirmed his previous thought, "And it's written to Lucius Malfoy."

"_Malfoy?_"

Ginny through him a glare at his rudeness but didn't say anything, allowing her older friend to speak. Instead, she glided over to where the Potter / Weasley children were huddled against the wall.

"Yes, maybe we should read it to Draco as well." Hermione didn't appear pleased with the thought, but clearly understood that she had no choice. After all, Draco Malfoy had been on their side in this War even if his Lucius hadn't been. "Oi, Malfoy." Her tone held politeness but the Draco still threw her a harsh glare, unwilling to be disturbed. Nevertheless, he moved over to the Golden Trio, as Ron had finally joined them, and raised a singular, silver eyebrow at his former nemesis.

"What is it, Potter? You know I haven't been…"

"It's about this." Hermione waved the letter in his face. "Do you mind if I read it?"

"Why would I mind?"

None of the other three thought it prudent to mention that the letter was actually addressed to him and Hermione began to read, pausing to take a deep breath before doing so.

"_It has come to my attention that The Malfoy Curse has been broken. Therefore, I need you to head over to the Malfoy Manor and bring back that which broke it. I want her terminated. Know only that failure will be punishable in the worst form and you must not be seen, or face the fullest extent of my wrath. Go, now, my faithful follower, and bring me back the child."_

"The Malfoy Curse?" Ron was the first to speak, frowning in confusion. A small crease appeared between Harry's eyebrows as he thought, but all he came up with was the Potter's Love Redheads curse, which didn't appear very prevalent in this situation. Draco appeared deep in thought and had not answered the question, causing Hermione to snap rather harshly at him.

"The Malfoy Curse has been placed on my family for centuries, originating from…"

"We don't really care." Ron placed one hand over his mouth and patted it twice in a show of boredom. From where he was watching with his siblings, James Potter II laughed softly, shaking his head at his Uncle's actions. Albus wacked his brother over the head, resulting in a whispered argument taking place. Turning their attention away from the squabbling siblings, Malfoy began to speak again.

"The Malfoy Curse states that Malfoy's can only have male children. It's also a result of our Veela genes, I suppose."

"Then it's still intact," Hermione mused in confusion. "You have a seventeen year old son, a sixteen year old son, and a fifteen year old son…but no daughter. If the curse had been broken then you would have a girl."

Malfoy got a wistful look forming across his ageing face. He ran a hand along his receding hair, sighing slightly. His eyes watched his wife, Astoria Greengrass-Malfoy as she chastised their eldest for playing a prank on their youngest. Her long, auburn hair was flowing down her back in deep waves and her dazzling green eyes were alight with fervour. Harry had to admit that the two made a handsome couple.

"I had a daughter once…she went missing when Scorpius was five. They were twins. We tried to keep it away from the Daily Prophet and the Aurors but we never gave up hope that we'd find her again. I suppose I now know who took her. My own father." He shook his head, repeating, _"My own father" _in a wondering voice.

"So where would Lucius have taken her?" Hermione asked in a soft voice, trying not to upset the already clearly distraught Malfoy. Ron snorted at her attempt, receiving a glare from his wife that made him scurry back over to their children, wrapping an arm around a sobbing Rose, who, it seemed, couldn't take the death and destruction that surrounded her.

"Not to Malfoy Manor, that would be too obvious." Harry opened his mouth to dispute this claim, but the blond was already speaking again in a rushed, worried tone. "Maybe to the Malfoy Summer House in France, or maybe even to Chalet de Malfoy in Italy."

"How many houses do you have?" Hermione asked in surprise, only to receive a derisive glower from Draco, who didn't even deign to answer. "Fine." She raised her hands in surrender. "Where do you think she'll have been taken to?"

"Somewhere where there is a prevalent Wizarding school; _Father –_" he spat the word with pure contempt, "_– _Wouldn't want her to lose out on her education. I suppose she'd probably be in the Summer House, then, as that is near Beauxbatons School of Magic. It's either that or Chateaux Malfoy in Florida. That's near Sheridan Education of Magic, but that's an all-male school, so it must be the Summer House."

"I wonder why Voldemort wanted her gone in the first place," Harry mused, pleased when neither of his companions flinched at the name. Hermione only cast him an incredulous glance.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" At the looks of confusion she received, she elaborated. "Voldemort wouldn't want there to be a chance that the girl…"

She was interrupted to Draco, "Cassiopeia." When neither of them spoke, he muttered, "Her name is Cassiopeia Lyra Malfoy."

Hermione nodded, "Voldemort wouldn't want there to be a chance that Cassiopeia could _'sully' _the Malfoy name. The Law of Marriage is still in effect where pureblooded males are concerned, they can still have arranged marriages. _Not that I think you'd give your sons one_,"she added hurriedly when Malfoy opened his mouth furiously. Although far from impressed, he nodded for her to continue. "Anyway, the Law of Marriage bans arranged marriages for females, meaning that when she grew older, she would be able to marry anyone she wanted, including half-bloods and Muggleborns. By kidnapping her, Voldemort was ensuring that this wouldn't happen. I'm sure he's been attempting to brainwash her into believing in his way of life."

"We've got to find her," the blond had a panicked look on his face as he shifted from foot-to-foot. "She could be harmed."

"We'll leave momentarily." Almost at once, Harry and Hermione left to rejoin their families, explaining a brief series of events. Draco almost glided over to Astoria, Scorpius, Abraxus and Septimus. Astoria's face was pale, a tear falling from one pale eye as he stared at her husband.

"She's coming back."

The three teenagers seemed overjoyed, all but Scorpius taking protective stances next to their Mother, thinking of the sister they would soon see. All three boys looked exactly like Draco, their white-blond hair seeming to gleam in the weak sunlight. From what they remembered – as it had been ten years ago – Alexis had had the same sort of hair as their Mother when she was younger as well as the slight glow from the Veela blood from their father.

"Are you ready, Malfoy?" Harry had appeared at his side, one hand outstretched. He turned to Astoria, "You are welcome at the Burrow while you wait, if you wish."

"Thank you." Astoria kissed her husband on the cheek and moved over to Hermione and Ginny, who placed their arms over her shoulders, cocooning her in the warmth.

"Let's go." As they watched their wife's disappear, Kingsley had moved over to their sides and now held an old boot out for the Malfoy to take. He did so and, upon waving his wand over it in a figure of eight movement, it glowed a deep blue colour.

"Brilliant. The portkey's ready. I always wanted to see another Malfoy hovel." All three men shivered, remembering the events from so long ago, when the Golden Trio had been trapped in Malfoy Manor. If Voldemort had appeared just before they disappeared then, the War may have been over before their kids had joined Hogwarts. As it so happened, Harry and Ron's youngest children would soon be entering their fourth year and the War had only just ended.

"_Hovel?"_

As the two began playfully bickering, the portkey glowed even brighter and they were transported to France, to the Malfoy Summer House, which really couldn't be described as a House. It was more like a Mansion than anything. It was breathtakingly beautiful, however, with long, sloping lawns and high, arched towers. As they neared the doors, words could be heard from a side-arch.


	3. Cassiopeia

**xXxLasting-MemoriesxXx - First off, I love your name. Secondly, thanks for the tip. I have now changed Alexis' name to Cassiopeia Lyra, which fits in with the theme of stars. Cassi's two older brothers (not including Scorpius) have been given names relating to the Malfoy side of the family. Abraxus and Septimus are both names that have been given to previous Malfoy's. I figured that, since Draco is part Malfoy and part Black, he would want two children with names from each side of the family. Review and tell me what you think. I hope you like this chapter.**

**Cassiopeia**

"_Grandpere?"_

That was a young, female voice that held traces of a French accent not very pronounced. It was probably the result of living in France for the past ten years. The voice that answered was deeper and more masculine. It was also one that the four listening men knew remarkably well.

"_Oui, Lyra."_

"Father never called her Cassiopeia as he deemed it a 'common name'," Draco whispered to his companions as they listened to the rapidly garbled French from behind the wall.

"_Why can't I go home? I barely remember what Mama and Papa look like."_

"_We've had this conversation many time, Lyra," _the other voice sighed, _"Until such a time as the Dark Lord is gone, you cannot return. As far as those at home are concerned, you are dead. That is why you are here. Are you not happy with your Grandmere and I?"_

A slightly guilty note tripped into the young girls voice, _"Of course I am, Grandpere. I only wish that I could see Mama, Papa, Scorp, Raxy, and Timus again."_

"_What have I told you about those detestable names?" _A touch of derision entered Lucius' voice.

"_Sorry." _The girl sighed deeply, before amending. _"I only wish that I could see Mama, Papa, Scorpius, Abraxus and Septimus again."_

"_Much better."_

Draco crept forward, eager to see the young girl with the childish voice, but his foot crunched on a twig lying carelessly on the ground. He stiffened as it cracked, turning to the other three wide-eyed. The speech stilled, and they could hear Lucius cautioning his companion, a worried undertone colouring his voice.

"_Grandpere?"_

"Not now, Lyra," was the shouted reply, his voice switching flawlessly to English. Then, he appeared from behind the hedge, a small frown on his face. "Did you not think I would know you were here as soon as you entered, Draco?"

"Why didn't you kill her?" was the muttered reply, the question not being answered. Lucius flinched but instead of answering, turned his attention to the three men standing behind his son.

"Would you like to stay for a drink? I will explain it all then." Stiff nods were his only response. "Dobby?"

A loud _'crack' _revealed the aged House elf wearing a neat suit, the Malfoy crest printed on the pocket. His wrinkly face lit up at the sight of Harry, his savior.

"Mr. Harry Potter, sir."

Harry, on the other hand, seemed furious. "I thought he was free. What did you do?" At the confused look, his voice rose to a roar, "What did you do?" The shouting had gathered the attention of the young girl in the garden, who had appeared unbeknownst to the five men and one Elf beyond.

"Dobby decided to come and work for _Grandpere_ when he needed a trustworthy servant." Her voice had switched to almost impeccable English, only a slight trace of her French accent shining through. As one, the men seemed to turn, drinking in her figure. Unlike most Malfoys, she did not have the white-blond hair. Instead, it was a deep auburn colour reminiscent of Astoria's herself. Her eyes were a deep, sunshine blue that seemed to shine in the pale face – something received from both the Malfoy and the Greengrass heritage. In fact, she was a spitting image of her Aunt, Daphne, at that age, except maybe a bit smaller, only coming up to the tip of Lucius' shoulder. She was dressed in a simple, above-knee-length dress in a deep, midnight blue, and she had a pure white bow cinching it at the waist. On her tiny feet she had little dolly shoes that barely made a dent in the dewy grass and her hair had been tied back into a high ponytail behind her head.

"Cassiopeia?"

"_Papa?" _she had reverted to French, which appeared to be her native language, _"Did you invited them here?" _She turned to Lucius, blue eyes peering hopefully up at them.

"_Non, mon Cherie. But I shall not be sending them away so soon." _He reverted back to English. "Come inside. Dobby, could you alert Narcissa to our guests and send a platter to the Dining Room."

"Of course, Master Lucius."

Lucius turned on his heel, grabbing Cassiopeia's hand in his, and began to pull her towards the house. The young fifteen-year-old craned her head around to catch a glimpse of her Father as they disappeared from view, but she was only partially successful. Draco's eyes filled with unshed tears as he looked after her, finally seeing his baby girl for the first time in ten years. A deep grin appeared to almost split his face as he almost ran down the long pathway to the door. Harry had a tiny, indulgent grin on his face, Ron was shaking his head in disbelief, and Kingsley had one hand clutching at his wand incase the elder Malfoy tried anything. However, from the scene they had just witnessed, that did not appear to have happened.

**XxX**

The room the three Malfoys and three Aurors moved into was an elegant affair. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, seeming to glint in the sparse light from the windows. In fact, if Harry wasn't mistaken, this appeared to be the very chandelier that Dobby had once dropped on the head of one Bellatrix Black whilst attempting to free him and his friends from the Malfoy Manor. The sophisticated armchairs, which sat facing each other on the patterned rug by the fireplace, were made of plain black upholstery but that only seemed to add to the rustic feel of the room. Upon the fireplace itself a few pictures were arranged here and there, which startled those unused to Lucius' soft nature, as they hadn't expected him to collect any sort of memorabilia. Draco only let out a small smirk as they'd had many such pictures back at his family Manor in Britain.

Narcissa Black-Malfoy was sat in the corner, removed from the goings on by the doorway, no trace of a smile on her aged but still regal features. She raised her chin to her son, who stomped over to her with an annoyed scowl, placing a kiss on the wrinkled flesh. Cassiopeia held her Grandmother's hand from where she sat by the window, staring out into the gathering darkness beyond.

"Is he dead?"

Her words startled the four Auror's, especially her father, who had wished that, with her being safely in France, she would not have heard of the Dark Lord from England. She only stared at them intently through wide blue eyes framed with thick lashes.

She repeated the question.

"Yes."

It was Harry who answered, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the young Malfoy's face as her Grandfather set about lighting the fire, who was surprising to the middle-age saviour of the Wizarding World, as the Lucius Malfoy from thirty years ago would never have deigned to do such things. As if seeing the disbelief, he muttered, "When you live in a place such as this, you learn how to do a few things for yourself."

"I, myself, have found a liking for baking," Narcissa informed them, a smile lighting up her face. "Dobby has been teaching me."

"That's all very well and done," Draco snapped, forcing all eyes back to him. "But I want to know why you kidnapped my daughter and didn't tell me about it."

"_Papa, _do not be angry," Cassi murmured, rushing over to his side. The endearing grin that lit up the elder Malfoy's face made Harry certain that before long she would have him wrapped around her little finger just as it seemed her Grandfather was. "He did it for my sake. Voldemort wanted me dead." The adults in the room were surprised at the maturity she spoke with and by her passive behaviour when speaking about the greatest dark Wizard to ever live. Harry supposed her bravery must come from the Greengrass side of her family, as the 'Ferret' had never been particularly courageous…in fact, he had been a coward in earlier life and his induction into the Auror's had not changed that much.

"Of course I'm not angry," He murmured into her hair as he placed a kiss on the top. His eyes were staring at his father, a question in the grey depths. Lucius let out a stiff nod and Draco relaxed, pulling his daughter into his side. "Now, I believe we need to head to The Burrow, Potter, to inform my wife of this new development."

"We'll meet you there."

With a loud _'pop' _they dissaparated, leaving Lucius, Narcissa and a platter of sandwiches that Dobby had so kindly brought, behind them.


	4. James

**sarahmichellegellarfan1 - 'Alexis' (or, as her name has now been changed to Cassiopeia, sorry for any confusion) is a fifth year like Albus, Rose and Scorpius, while James, as you've figured out, is a seventh year. Sorry for the confusion. Do you like the story so far? Is there anything you think I can change? I hope you like this chapter.**

**xXxLasting-MemoriesxXx - Thanks for the review. I'm glad you like the new names. I actually had another character who will come in later on called Cassiopeia, but I completely forgot about her as I made 'Alexis' called that, too. Therefore, I have changed the other person's name, but I won't tell you who it is for now. See if you can guess later on. I hope you like this chapter.**

**James**

James Potter II was not having a good day. Firstly, he had been woken up by a large banging sound from below which prevented him from staying in as long as he liked. Secondly, it appeared that Voldemort waited for no one and was at Hogwarts waiting for the final battle to begin, where he would attempt to destroy James father because of something a Prophecy spoken before Harry's birth said. Thirdly, he, along with Fred, George and Roxanne, had to babysit the children while their parents went off risking their lives. He was seventeen, for crying out loud, was he not old enough to fight? Apparently not. And finally, they had to sit at the Burrow, in tense silent, waiting for the four Aurors to return with the lost Malfoy. She probably wasn't very nice anyway, so why was anyone bothering?

His cousin, Fred, was sitting at his right, as much in the dark as he was, one hand drumming idly on the armrest of his chair. At James' annoyed glare, he backed off, grinning wickedly.

And then the door swung open.

Astoria Malfoy, who'd been waiting tensely by the fireplace, one of Hermione's hands resting in her own, jumped up and rushed forward, not allowing anyone a glimpse of the girl beyond. A muffled conversation followed, in which she started crying in earnest, prompting a disgusted roll of the eyes from James. If none of this had happened, then he would currently be on the arm of some cheap bird snogging as if their life depended on it.

And then Astoria moved out of the way, and the new girl practically floated in. She glanced around unsurely, a soft smile tilting the corners of her lips as she curtseyed. "_Bonjour._"

James couldn't stop staring. He had known she would be pretty, with her half-Veela genes from her father and flowing auburn hair from her Mother, but he hadn't quite come to terms with how beautiful she would be. Her long-lashed eyes caught his and seemed to ensnare him in a web, pulling him closer. He knew this wasn't anything but lust. I mean, who wouldn't want a girl like that on their arm? But he found he couldn't tear his eyes from her. And it seemed that he wasn't the only one.

From the corner of his eyes he could see Fred gaping at her, a strand of ginger hair falling, unnoticed, into his eyes. Louis – Bill and Fleur's youngest – seemed to have been stupefied even with his tendency to be around Veela women the majority of the time seeing as his Mum was part-Veela and his sisters had definitely inherited the gene. His little brother, Albus, was practically drooling, head tilted to one side as though that would give him a better view of her. Rose was the only one who moved.

"What's your name? How old are you? Are you going to come to Hogwarts? Why were you kidnapped? Do you plan on…?"

"Alright, Rosie, that's enough," Uncle Ron murmured with an embarrassed smile, putting an arm around his daughter. Rose pouted in reply, rolling her eyes at the Father. He ignored her and said to the room at large, "This is Cassiopeia. Now, let's move outside to let them talk."

"Wow," Uncle George whispered to his twin, "Ron actually said something clever."

In reply, Ron mouthed a swear word in his direction, earning himself multiple smack on his head from his wife, sister, and Mother. Despite his protests, the three Weasley women still dragged him outside, his children giggling at his expense.

James rolled his eyes, attempting to be cool in front of the new girl, only to trip on the slightly raised rug and fall flat on his face in front of her. A small giggle drew his attention as she kneeled down, bringing herself level with him, and held out a hand.

"Hi, I'm Cassiopeia."

"James," he muttered in reply, taking the outstretched hand and allowing her to pull him up. A blush tainted his tanned skin as she let out another giggle, free hand clasping against her lips. James blushed even more, prompting a snarky, raised eyebrow from his Father, who hadn't moved from the doorway. "I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Sure, I believe Mr. Potter said that we could stay here for a couple of days?" She posed it as a question, and no doubt Harry had actually said that, but there was no suspicion in anyone's mind that no one would dare to oppose her. James could definitely see why his Father, Ron and Kingsley were looking at her with something close to reverence. She was scary.

"_Did you see her?"_ was the first thing James heard as he was escorted outside by his Father, Cassiopeia's giggles following him. Louis' mouth still hung open in shock, looking gormlessly through the open door of the house. Lily laughed loudly, the sound completely different from Alexis' soft, restrained giggles.

"She wasn't _that _pretty," a sharp voice snapped from beside him. If James was perfectly honest with himself, he had completely forgotten that _she_ was there. _'She' _being Sophie Carldon, James' current flame-of-the-week, as his family had taken to calling them. As usual, she was a tall, leggy, blond, with more air than cleverness clogging up her overly large head. Her face was heavily made-up, appearing more 'fake' than face, while her body was clad in a mid-thigh length burnt-orange dress that did nothing for her pale complexion.

"Are you blind?" Lily asked cruelly. She never liked any of the girls her brother bought home. "She's stunning." She gave James' a glance. "And half-Veela. Sorry, dear, seems like you're soon to be replaced."

"That's not going to happen," Sophie smirked, clutching at her 'boyfriends' arm with painted fingernail. James flinched slightly, attempting surreptitiously to free himself. "My Jamesie loves me."

"Jamesie?" an amused voice asked from behind them and James found his face flushing. He couldn't remember the last time he'd blushed. It was probably in fourth year, when he'd asked Matty Davidson out. Now that he thought about it, he also remembered her calling him Jamesie. He could still remember the nerves he'd felt at asking the question to the beautiful fifth-year, who'd blushed slightly before nodding, blushing herself. Of course, that was before he'd found out that she'd been playing him the whole time.

_James was waltzing down the corridor, chatting to his partners-on-crime, Roxanne, Fred and George Weasley. It had been three months since he'd asked Matty out and things couldn't be better. Every Hogsmeade weekend the two of them would venture into the surrounding town, laughing together as they entered Honeydukes, where James would buy her something sweet, whatever was her fancy of that day. Then they would enter Madam Puddifoots, James' secret hatred, where they would have coffee and scones, of which James would eat many and Matty none. Finally, they would enter the Hogsmeade branch of Flourish and Blotts, where he was expected to buy her an expensive book of some sort. She wasn't a Ravenclaw for no reason, after all. Then they would head back to Hogwarts, heading into her dorm room, where they would stay for some hours before resurfacing for dinner._

_The four Gryffindor's heard noises from the passageway next to them, and, eager to try out their newest Weasley Wizard Wheezes products, they stopped, James and Fred gripping each side of the portrait. They ripped it off with unnecessary force and James stared in shocked pain at the two entwined figures beyond._

_The first was Josua Smith, the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain and son of Zacharias Smith, the DA member from their parents' time. That wasn't what caught James' attention, however. No, this was Matty Davidson, the only ginger he had ever had the pleasure of dating and the only one he swore he would ever date. This was also the same Matty Davidson who was his girlfriend._

"_Mats…" his voice came out as a strangled gasp, eyes fixed relentlessly on his girlfriends face. An annoyed sigh came from those perfect lips as she unglued herself from the Quidditch Captain's mouth to glance over at James._

_Once she did, instead of the regret he expected to see, she only looked annoyed. "Oh," she let out a sickly giggle, causing the four Weasley-twins-in-training to glower furiously at her. "Hello, Jamesie, darling. I suppose you want to know what this is, huh?" Without waiting for an answer, she plowed on, "Well, you see, I only accepted your offer to date on a dare. The dare was that I could bed a child of the golden-trio before the end of the year, and it seemed as though I succeeded, huh, Jamesie-boy."_

_A smattering of applause and cold laughter caused the three to turn. Behind them, crowding into the narrow corridor, were many fifth, sixth and seventh-years who'd obviously been in on it. James made sure that he didn't cry in front of them, and instead rushed towards Gryffindor Tower with his cousins in his wake, shouting for him to stop._

That was the day James had sworn off gingers even though _The Potter Curse_ supposedly stated that every male Potter would fall in love with one. Al had yet to do that and he was fifteen, so why would the same be for James. That was also the reason why James had decided against going after Cassiopeia in a romantic sense. He supposed he would always see Matty whenever they kissed.

He was pulled out of his thought as his little sister tugged on his arm ferociously. She was grinning in a way conspirators do when they've come up with a clever plan. James assumed he must look the same when with Fred and Roxanne, although that had yet to be proved.

"_What?"_

"Didn't you always say that you want to learn French?" James decided he didn't like that gleam in her eyes, deciding that it looked too much like Dumbledore's from the many times he'd seen the portrait in the Headmistress' office. And no one would want Lily to lead a school; it would be up in flames in days.

"What, no…"

"Oh, if you want to learn, I can teach you." Cassiopeia had turned, her dark eyes seeming to reach into his very soul as her hand clutched at her twin's, who was giving James a very thorough glare. "I've always wanted to attempt to be a teacher." She broke off with a dreamy sigh before turning to him once more. "Well?"

"I'm sure he doesn't want…" But Scorpius didn't get to finish his sentence as Albus, who sent his elder brother a sly wink, pulled him away. What was it with his family and conspiring against him?

Mainly to spite the youngest male Malfoy, but also because he felt compelled towards her, James agreed, almost wincing at the brightness of her dazzling grin when it was bestowed upon him. As she glided away, he found himself watching her, admiring the subtle sway of her hips as she walked, the slight toss of her head as a strand of wayward hair fell into her eyes, the dainty laugh that he could hear even from where he was standing.

"So, you've got yourself a hot date," Fred snickered as he approached with George and Roxanne. Roxanne was cooing at the apparent 'cuteness' of the two. Personally, James didn't see how they were cute, or even remotely adorable. But his cousins seemed to disagree.

"It's not a date," he muttered for what would undoubtedly be the first time of many, "She's just going to teach me French."

"But you hate French," George pointed out the obvious, resulting in a withering glare from James, who, it appeared, did not like the teasing he was receiving. Fortunately for him, at that moment they were called in for dinner, all thoughts of Cassiopeia being driven from his mind for the time being.

**XxX**

Cassi Malfoy grinned as she lazily stretched, feeling the silk of her covers sliding around her slim frame. She remembered all too clearly leaving the Malfoy Summer Home in France and although she missed her _Grandmere _and _Grandpere, _she was glad to be home, where she belonged. The young soon-to-be-Slytherin only hoped that she would get to meet her elderly family again soon, and she was sure she would at some point. Although Lucius and Narcissa had taken her from her home, they hadn't mistreated her, and had told her all about her immediate family and they had also told her why she had been 'kidnapped'. Cassiopeia didn't hate them for their choices; she only wished things could have been slightly different.

Her watch beeped and she remembered, almost belatedly, that today she had agreed to begin to teach James Potter French. She remembered how she had felt when she first saw him, the slight fluttering in her chest, the faint blush that tinted her pale cheeks, the uncontrollable giggles. She had chastised herself at the time, having never been one to go on just how a man looked, but no one could deny that James Potter was hot. Cassi only hoped that he was an alright guy as well. She would hate for him to be shallow and cruel.

She slipped out of her short nightclothes and into a mid-thigh-length sky-blue dress that she decided against wearing tights with. A white belt and sandals completed the ensemble and she decided to keep her hair down and curly for old times sake. _Grandpere Lucius_ always liked her hair down, for some reason unidentifiable to herself.

"_Mama, _I'm going out." It was a surprise to Alexis how quickly she had transitioned back into calling her parents _Mama _and _Papa, _when, as she'd been apparated into the Burrow, her mind had been running a mile a minute, wondering if her Mother and brothers would accept her.

Fortunately, they had.

"Alright, darling, but don't be too long. I hope Mr. Potter will appreciate the lesson."

Even though she couldn't see her Mother, she couldn't help a delighted smile from curling the corners of her lips at the thought of seeing James again. She had been struck with how kind he'd been the night previously, especially when she'd been unsure of how to react with the other Weasleys / Potters / Scamanders / Malfoys…and whoever else was there.

_Cassiopeia was glancing around worriedly. Her parents had drawn each other into conversation, occasionally glancing over at her, beautiful smiles curling onto each of their faces as they caught her gaze. Many of the young Weasley / Potter's were in a massive group at the end of the table, rambunctious laughter falling from every lip. She noticed Lucy Weasley reading at book next to them but she seemed too intimidating to approach, and Teddy Lupin and Victoire Weasley appeared to be in their own little world, one of Victoire's hands tapping gently at his cheek._

"_Hey," she didn't realise that someone had walked up behind her until he spoke, one of his hands gently coiling around her wrist. "Come on, I'll introduce you."_

_She couldn't help herself from staring at the back of his head as they moved closer to the noisiest part of the table. Scorpius grinned at her as she approached, standing to make room for her while Fred conjured up an extra chair. Molly Weasley was the only one who ignored her, content; it seemed, to annoy her sister, who was hissing furiously under her breath._

"_This is Cassiopeia."_

_At once all noise stopped, every eye turning to Cassi, who stopped, stiffening slightly. James' hand on her arm was the only thing that kept her from turning on her heel and running away. Fred was the first to stand up, one hand outstretched and a handsome grin on his slightly pudgy face._

"_I'm Fred."_

_That seemed to be the hailstone and the rest clamoured to meet her, hands outstretched everywhere she looked. And they all wanted to meet her: Cassiopeia Lyra Malfoy_

She called the affirmative to her Mother before grabbing some emerald Floo powder and throwing it into the guilt fireplace. She tucked her elbows tightly into her side, knowing exactly of the pain one would feel if their arms were to bang onto the side.

She coughed out some ash as she arrived in the Burrow, where the Weasley / Potter's appeared to be staying for the celebration of the defeat of Voldemort. It also seemed that they were in the middle of eating, even though it was eight in the morning and James had told her the previous day that they usually woke at around six.

James caught her eye almost immediately, that bright grin that she had come to associate with _James _falling onto his features. No one else turned in his direction, but many eyes turned to him as he rose. He cleared her throat. It sounded almost nervous to the untrained Cassiopeia, but, as stated before, she was untrained so she wouldn't know.

"Well…she's here…so…"

Almost simultaneously, every eye turned in her direction, and she found herself blushing uncertainly. James beckoned and she approached, carrying the French books she had brought with her. If she was honest with herself, she had always wanted to be teacher. It was only second to Quidditch in her opinion, but the chances of being signed on by one of those was very slight, even if she had been called the best Seeker since Harry Potter, which had been almost thirty years ago.

"Keep the door open?" Ginny Weasley-Potter called behind them, bursting into fits of giggles at the blushes that dusted both of their faces. James had fit his hand snugly into her own as he tugged her up the long, winding staircase until they reached a room near the top of the house. The room itself had the look of something that had recently been gone through with a bombshell. It was messy, the wardrobe overflowing with clothes, but Cassi refrained from laughing at the look of embarrassment on her companion's face.

"I tried…" he trailed off as he had done downstairs, kicking a football self-consciously under his high bed. One that he soon sat on, patting next to him for her to join him.

"It's fine. I went into Scorpius' room last night and his was a lot worse than this." He seemed to deflate slightly in relief at her comment, pulling one of the books on her lap over to him, opening at the contents page.

"So, what did you want to teach me first?"

"I just thought we'd go over some verbs and verb tenses for today. You know, the general rules and such like things."

"Of course."

He waited patiently as she pulled a notebook over to herself, whipping a patterned pen out of the side and opening it in one deep flourish. James glanced over her shoulder, surprised at the elegant writing that was displayed. He would have found it much easier to stay away from her if she had had _a least one _flaw, but so far he hadn't found anything. She seemed, to all extents and purposes, perfect.

Realising that he hadn't been listening to the lilting words coming from her lips, he quickly tuned back in, learning more than he felt he ever did at school, even if it was for a different subject.


	5. Ara Black and the New Order

**Ara Black and The New Order**

A few hours later, the two stopped, staring at each other in silent for a moment before James broke it with an exaggerated cough.

"I was wondering if you'd also help me with my school subjects. I need at least E's on all my N.E. if I want to become an Auror, which I do. I know you're two years younger, but…"

"I'd love to," she let out a small laugh, pecking him on the cheek before disappearing around the doorway, shouting back, "I'll be here tomorrow at nine."

"Why don't you come for breakfast?" Even he noticed the slightly desperate tone his voice had taken on, but she only nodded in reply, slipping around his family and vanishing into the fireplace.

"So, you invited her without consulting us?" His Father's voice was amused as James whirled back around, noticing the blissful look on his own face. Harry grinned happily, glad that his son was finally getting over Matty, his first love, but hoping that she wouldn't break his heart. James had gotten himself quite the reputation since that disaster of a fourth year.

**XxX**

Cassiopeia grinned to herself as she fell unceremoniously out of the fireplace, her face curving into an annoyed frown at the smattering of laughter she heard from above her. Scorpius was sitting on the sofa, one hand behind his head, eyes fixed on his twin, an amused smirk on his lips. Septimus and Abraxus had turned at her entrance but before they'd been engaged in a fierce game of Wizards Chess. Draco and Astoria were entwined opposite Scorp on the other sofa. Astoria was grinning knowingly while Draco was attempting to get her attention.

"So, how is James?"

"He's okay," was the slow reply, Cassiopeia standing up and brushing herself off self-consciously.

"Can we expect grandkids anytime soon?"

"Mum," Cassi's voice came our high-pitched, a deep look of shock permanently etched onto her pretty face. She could hear her Father choking on his water from the other side of the room, fury defining every aged feature. Scorpius had half-risen, moving as if to go to the fireplace, while her eldest two brothers had shoved their chess set onto the ground, the figures pretesting vehemently, and were following Scorp's footsteps.

"Quiet!"

The shout caused all movements to stop, eyes turning to the Malfoy matriarch, who had also risen, one hand rubbing gentle circles on her husbands back as he continued to cough relentlessly. "None of you are going to castrate poor James, which I am certain you are dying to do. Instead, you are all going to go to your rooms until I call you down for dinner." Before protests could start up, she'd gone, slamming the door to her private quarters closed behind her. Cassiopeia was soon to follow.

An Owl was standing on the windowsill outside when Cassi finally arrived, shutting the door with a firm _'click' _behind her. Confusion painted the features for a moment before she belatedly recognised the messy scrawl as that of James Potter. Wondering why he was contacting her when they'd just met, she glided over and let the Owl in with a firm _'squawk'._

_Hey, Cassi (is it okay if I call you Cassi),_

_Mum brought these for me mere minutes after seeing you. They're called Twin Diaries, which I thought was rather fitting seeing as you are part of a twin. You write in yours and it will appear in mine. Before you say anything, I am aware that it is incredibly girly, but I wanted to get to know you better (and now you're making me sound like a pansy)._

_Write once you get this,_

_James_

Cassiopeia turned her attention to the package, allowing the indignant Owl to fly away. The notebook was quite thick and patterned with a large swirl on the front. It could pass for a school book if so desired so she could always contact James in school as they were to be in different years and, most probably, different houses.

She opened it, flicking the lock out of the way as she glanced for a moment at the yellowing parchment before grabbing her eagle-feather quill and dipping it into some blood red ink, dotting the parchment for a moment as she readied herself.

_James? It's Cassi (yes you can call me that). I got your message and thought I'd reply (it has nothing to do with the order you gave me). I'm 'part of a twin'? I am definitely my own person despite having a twin brother, who – for the record – would kill you for even thinking that. Mother had to stop him and my other brothers from rushing to The Burrow when she asked if she was going to get grandkids from us. I mean, we've barely just met, why would we be thinking about grandchildren yet? I'm sorry, I'm rambling, I do that sometimes._

_I guess I'll see you tomorrow._

With that, she settled down to read for a couple of hours, trying to catch up on the schoolwork for fifth year at Hogwarts (Beauxbatons was a few weeks behind) and contemplating what school would be like when she finally got to go next week. She couldn't wait. The world would be such a better place without Voldemort terrorizing it, and she would no longer have to worry about if she was to be found and killed.

**XxX**

The morning dawned bright and clear for James as he listened to the birds chirp outside. As much as he wished to deny it, he couldn't hide his undeniable attraction to the youngest Malfoy child. That didn't necessarily mean that he would be 'pursuing' her, as it were, because he still held some worry for gingers, despite the fact that Cassi was nothing like Matty.

"James!"

He shot up, surprised at the shout but knowing the implications almost immediately. _Cassi had arrived. _He dressed himself in tight jeans and a white t-shirt that he knew showed off his abs, before combing a shaking hand through his hair. He sighed, annoyed. No girl had ever had this effect on him before, but, for once, he welcomed the change, knowing almost instinctively that he would not be going after any girl once school started again. Cassi would be enough for him.

"_James!"_

A rolled eye later and he was clattering down the stairs enthusiastically, tripping on the final step and landing in a heap in front of the beautiful fifteen-year-old. Both were reminded of their first meeting, when much the same thing had happened.

"I was thinking we could learn Transfiguration outside?" she suggested in that sweet voice of her, and James nodding, grabbing the messy pile of books at the end of The Burrow's table and following Cassiopeia outside. She was already some way away, balancing her books on one hand whilst she dug into her bag for a pen. James watched her for a moment in silence, admiring the way the light shone off her auburn hair, before shaking his head in annoyance at the mushy thoughts and hurrying to catch up.

**XxX**

Harry glanced out of the door, watching as the young Malfoy sat beside James, both of them seeming immersed into whatever they were working on. Albus had gone to the Malfoy's for the day, despite Ginny's objections after what had happened the last time Hermione had been there. Harry shot those down quickly enough, reminding his beautiful wife that Scorpius was not Draco, and Draco was not Bellatrix. Lily was sitting with Lorcan Scamander, their hands entwined even though she was only fourteen and he was only fifteen. Harry was sure it wasn't anything serious, but, unlike many Fathers (he was sure Draco would be overprotective of Cassiopeia), he didn't mind her _'experimenting', _as it were. They were chatting with the rest of Mismatched; Jason and Daniela having only come down for the day.

Dominique, Rose, Lysander and Molly had formed a tight circle and were in the middle of a very harsh game of exploding snap, much to Hermione's displeasure as she watched from behind Harry. Harry – and, in fact, the rest of the Weasleys – were glad that both Rose and Hugo had received their Mother's brains, as Hermione would have been impossible to deal with had they not. It did not escape his notice, but that didn't mean he was any less unhappy about it, that each four houses were represented in the young teenagers.

Laughter in the distance heralded the arrival of Dylianna and her boyfriend, Terrence – or Terry for short, as he hated Terrence – who was a sixth year Ravenclaw. Harry knew for certain that Fred loved Terry as he had the same sort of mischievous streak that Fred himself had but Dyl lacked. It appeared that Tom, Fred and Alicia's eldest child, had gotten those genes from their Father.

Speaking of Tom, the twenty-three year old was currently chatting with Victoire, Teddy, and Louis – who always hung out with the others even if they had already graduated – by the lake, all of their shoes off and their feet dangling in the water. Lucy wasn't far from them, her head bowed and her nose stuck in a ridiculously big tome. Percy was certainly happy with how she turned out.

The New Marauders were sitting next to the massive oak tree that bathed the grounds, their heads close together. Harry had no doubt that they were thinking up their next prank, no doubt on Rose if the sneaky looks in her direction were of any inclination. Harry pitied Ron's daughter…and the troublemakers when she got her hands on them. It wouldn't be pretty, that was for certain.

"Are they all accounted for?" Ginny's soft voice reached him and he nodded nervously, gulping once as he turned back around to face the adults. He knew what he had to tell them wasn't good, and that it would eventually leak back into the Next Generation due to Teddy's big mouth – he was to find out a work the next day – but for now Harry was only glad that they were, at the moment, completely innocent in the workings of the current world.

"So, what are we here for, Harry?" Hermione asked gently, pressing a hand to his arm to sit him down. Ginny didn't even bat an eyelash. Harry remembered the time in his resit-seventh-year when she had been utterly furious at his merely hugging Hermione, being jealous that the older girl had been with Harry during the Horcrux Hunt while she couldn't be. Not that it would have mattered, because the Hunt was a failure right from the word go.

"In the aftermath of Voldemort's death –" Harry was pleased that no one flinched. "–We thought that any Death Eaters not rounded up had fled the country and the Aurors were working on tracking them down. We were wrong." A muffled gasp tore from the Weasley Matriarch's lips, one hand reaching up to press upon them, but no one else moved an inch. "It seems that a group of Death Eaters, led by Bellatrix Lestrange and Fenrir Greyback, have been recruiting. Fortunately for us, it hasn't been long since Voldemort's demise and so they have not been wholly successful as of yet, but they are gaining support and influence quickly. We need to act _now _before things get out of hand."

"What do you propose, Harry?" Came the sharp, unforgiving voice of Sirius Black as he entered the room along with his wife, Cedric and Cho Diggory, Kingsley and Miriam Shaklebolt and Remus and Nymphadora Lupin (who still preferred to go as Tonks despite the fact that she was Tonks no longer). Severus Snape and his wife made their way into the room behind the others, heads slightly lowered, whispering to each other. Harry recognised many others from his school days – Seamus Finnegan and his Irish wife, Dana, Dean Thomas and Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown and Terry Boot – and others who he'd only come to know later on – Western Rogue, Alexander Brood, and Quentin Oldtoon (which was, apparently, a very prominent pureblood name despite sounding like something from one of those cartoons he'd used to watch from the stairs when he was a kid).

"The Auror's are still going to search the outside countries in case of any new developments or leads, but The Order of the Phoenix has been given the job of searching England and its surrounding colonies," Kingsley stated, the Head of the Auror department frowning ever so slightly at the thought. "We're here to assign jobs."

Harry took over, "We'll meet at Grimmauld Place every week to see if we've found anything, but these –" Hermione stood up to hand around the DA Coins, "– Will be used if there is an urgent need to contact any of us."

"That's all," Kingsley finished with a flourish, taking his Coin and his wife and hurrying out, clearly late for a meeting of some sort. Slowly the others started to leave until only the Potters / Weasleys / Scamanders / Longbottoms were left. Neville's eyes were closed, deep in thought, while his wife, Hannah Longbottom (née Abbott), rubbed soothing circles on his back. The Weasley's were dotted around the room, Fred and George having already disappeared in favour of chatting to their sons. Luna and Rolf Scamander appeared deep in conversation, noses only a hair's breath apart. And Harry took this all in, removed in a way from the world.

"Another War's inevitable, isn't it?" Hermione's quiet voice came from behind him, and the two were joined a moment later by Ron, who rested a soothing hand on his wife's shoulder.

"I'm afraid so."

"We'll take this as we always have done," Ron murmured, glancing at the other two, "Together."

**XxX**

September 1st dawned as well as any day in September could. The wind was blowing up a storm outside the locked gates of Parkinson Manor, and not a thing stirred in the rough path outside. The trees seemed almost bent over fully, bows breaking against the relentless war buffeting against them and many leaves swirling in beautiful spiral patterns to the floor. And yet inside, all was calm.

Antonio Parkinson raised himself slightly from his seat as there was a loud _'crack' _reverberating through his Mansion. He knew instinctively who it was. What they were doing there, however, was another matter entirely. The Wards had alerted him as soon as someone tried to enter, their success highly fruitful but pointless in they eyes of the Parkinson matriarch.

"And what do I owe this pleasure, _Bellatrix Lestrange." _The final words came as a slight hiss, the man's once handsome face contorting into an expression of disgust as the best friend of his dead wife came into view. A wife killed by none other than Harry Potter himself.

"Our world has been destroyed by Harry Potter," she murmured in his ear, tongue flicking out to taste him roughly before darting away once more, her lips caressing the venomous words. "I propose we destroy him and all he holds dear, starting with those children of his."

"And how do you propose we do that?" Dethre Parkinson had entered without either of the older people noticing, his young, lively face alight with fervour. "We won't do it all for free, Bellatrix." His tiny, pig-like eyes raked over her body for a moment before he turned away, disgusted.

"And what do you so desire?"

"Oh, I think you know," the words were a mere breath on the wind as Dethre left, a smirk falling across his lips. Antonio nodded, dismissing her abruptly. Furious, Bellatrix twirled, disaparating from the Manor with barely a sound, unlike her sharp entrance.

Dethre waited. He knew what was coming, and he was ready. He had changed from his sharp, brown breeches and into some pure silk pajamas that accented his toned body. He was lying down on his bed, legs kicked up at the knees so that his heels rested together comfortably. One hand absently drummed on the harsh metal of the sides of the bed, his eyes restlessly moved around the room. And yet, he made no outward sign of his nervousness. And he waited.

Ara Black hesitated at the doorway, closing her eyes for the briefest moment before she moved one shaking hand to knock on the door. Her long, black hair – so much like her Mother's – was tied at the nape of her neck, the dark purplish bruise she had received a couple of weeks ago standing out in sharp relief on the pale-white flesh. Her dark eyes – ones that occasionally glinted crimson like her dear Fathers – were fixed resolutely on the door. But she didn't move.

Dethre heard her. He was always in tune to her soft pants, her quick footsteps, her sweeping grace. And he moved, rising benevolently from his from his bed, one hand reaching for the door handle.

He swung it open.

Ara gasped, jumping back at the sudden figure before her. She flinched as he reached out one tanned hand to caress her face. "Come, my sweet." No one was there to see the look of absolute loathing and pain on the young sixteen-year-olds face as she was dragged inside and the door was slammed behind her. Her only solace was that she was doing this for the good of the Wizarding World…to get revenge on those who killed her Father.

But she was beginning to wonder if it was still worth it.


	6. The Fake Boyfriend

**I was disappointed that no one reviewed the last chapter, I really hope someone will do this one. Thanks xxx**

**The Fake Boyfriend**

September 1st dawned as well as any day in September could. James had a small smirk on his lips as he stretched slightly. He was still staying at the Burrow even though everyone but Ron's family had left the previous night. This was a tradition of theirs, have Grandma Molly cook breakfast the day they returned to Hogwarts.

To his horror (or maybe he wasn't as horror-struck as he'd like everyone to believe) he felt a slight pang in his chest at the thought that he wouldn't get to see Cassiopeia until the Sorting. Due to her Prefect status at Beauxbatons, she had been transferred to a Prefect at Hogwarts despite no one knowing of her house just yet.

Finding himself running a nervous hand through his hair, attempting to flatten it although many such attempts in the past had failed, he quickly dropped it and gripped his wand with his newly freed hand, waving it in a sharp swooshing motion so that his Trunk rose into the air after him. He met Lily on the stairs, her Trunk clunking along behind her as she was still too young to use magic. At her pleaded shout, he quickly turned back, standing with his hands behind his head, staring at her through heavily-lidded eyes.

"Help, James."

He grinned, "What's in it for me?" At her silence, he added, "Nope. Sorry, sis, _Humiliating, isn't it?"_

She appeared to be thinking. "I'll tell Cassiopeia about Matty." He felt his face pale, wondering if she would actually do such at thing. Scratch that thought, yes she would. There were many people who wondered if Lily should be in Slytherin rather than Gryffindor. "_Humiliating, isn't it?" _She mocked his words as he flicked his wand once more, allowing her to release the heavy Trunk.

"Lily," she turned back around, raising a singular eyebrow in a move so unlike his usually innocent cousin that it shocked him for a moment. Once he'd composed himself, he hurriedly added, "Please don't tell her about Matty. I think I should be the one to tell her."

"Okay, just don't break her heart."

"It's nothing like that," he attempted to protest, but his baby sister was hearing none of it, and ignored him in favour of joining Hugo in the Burrow's kitchen, where he could see Albus already complete with trunk and Owl cage. Rose entered behind him, one hand gripping her Trunk, the other checking her watch.

"If we don't hurry now, we're going to be late."

Ron, for once, seemed to agree with his daughter as he rushed in, waving his wand behind him to make the luggage follow him to the Ministry-ordered car. Sometimes it helped being an Auror. James found himself wondering if Cassi would get the same treatment. After all, her Dad was also an Auror, to the surprise of many who wondered if a former Death Eater should even be allowed to train as one. Apparently they thought _he _would be the one who could start the Third Great War.

The trip to the station was relatively uneventful for the five children and four adults who were all squished into one, magically enhanced car. James found Lily practically in his lap, one of her small hands resting on his shoulders in an attempt to push herself away.

"Uncle Ron should never drive," she groaned helplessly as they swerved another oncoming vehicle, sending the teens in the back into disarray. Rose looked like she was on the verge of sickness while Albus had his eyes closed, hands pressed firmly over them. James just wanted to see Cassi.

"Agreed."

James felt the notebook, which he had shrunken to fit in his pocket, heat up, signifying that Cassiopeia had written in it. Trying to be as discreet as possible, he pulled it out, grinning at the message and worry it seemed to display.

_Where are you? We've been here for twenty minutes already (although that may be cause Mum's a freak, you understand that, don't you?) Anyway, the train leaves in approximately 5.3 minutes and if you're not here by then, you'll miss it._

_Miss you xxx_

"What's this?" Lily had plucked it out of her hands, completely disregarding his need to read it, and read it herself, a knowing smirk taking over her face as she showed it to Albus, regardless of her eldest brothers annoyance. A bright giggle slipped from her lips, "_This _was what you've been working on all summer?" James blushed. "But you haven't known her all summer."

"I decided to give it to her once I'd finished it regardless of whether I'd known her before deciding to invent it or not."

Before Lily could reply and before James could write back to Cassiopeia, they had arrived at Kings Cross Station and they were forced from the car in relative calm.

"Don't worry," Lily murmured at her brother's relieved expression, "I'll make fun of you later." And then she skipped away with Hugo to join the rest of _Mismatched _and Lorcan Scamander. Albus had disappeared with Rose, both of them – it seemed – looking for Cassiopeia as the three were to be in the same year. According to Albus, the youngest Malfoy child was going to be a Slytherin like her brothers, but James sincerely hoped otherwise. He didn't know quite what he'd do if she was. Okay, yes, some of his cousins and his baby brother were in Slytherin, but James still held a slight grudge against them.

With those last worries in mind, he boarded the train, Cassi having already disappeared to the Prefects carriage with Rose and Scorpius.

**XxX**

"Malfoy, Cassiopeia."

"Slytherin."

**XxX**

James was in shock as the sea of green and silver occupying the further corner of the room erupted into cheers. He wasn't sure what to do. Albus and Scorpius had welcomed her with open arms, one of Scorpius' arms wrapping protectively around his sisters waist as he noticed the looks _male _members of the school were giving her. James could see where he was coming from; he, himself, felt the cold grips of jealousy creeping into his very bones.

"Hey, Mate, so I heard little Miss. Malfoy was tutoring you all summer," the smarmy voice of Dalton Grey spoke behind him. He signaled for Roxanne, Fred and George to move on ahead of him before turning back to the sixth-year Gryffindor. Some people gave them confused looks as they passed, but no one stopped, many giving them a wide birth, well aware of the rivalry between the two.

"Yeah, she did," he agreed, well aware of the look of delight crossing Dalton's face. Before he could say what was on his mind, James leaned forward as though telling a secret, his eyes widening forcefully. Dalton leaned forward too. "Between you and me, she's a bit of a drag. Very boring. And, I mean, she's a _Slytherin. _They can't be good, can they?" He trailed off suggestively before taking his leave, the guilt already beginning to weigh him down. The only thing that made him pleased with what he'd done, was the look of shock and horror that had been plastered across the other boys face.

He made his lonely way to the House Room, a tiny grin forming itself across his features. The House Room was like the Room of Requirement, where everyone from every house could converge together. It was Harry's idea to promote inter-House unity, and, as expected, most of the fifth, sixth and seventh years were already there. Cassiopeia wasn't. That was the first thing he thought. Cassiopeia wasn't there.

He tried to ignore the nagging feeling that maybe some boy had decided to show her around the Castle, comforting himself with the thought that they probably wouldn't have, as everyone wanted a good nights rest in preparation for the morning.

"…Yeah, sure. So, I'll see you tomorrow?" The whispered conversation caught his mind and, to his horror, he noticed Cassi come in on the arm of none other than Dalton Grey. It hadn't even occurred to the Seventh Year Gryffindor that _Dalton _could tell her what he'd said, and a cold vice gripped itself around his heart at that thought.

He approached.

"Hey. So, I was wondering if you could teach me some more Transfiguration. I…"

But she cut him off. "You're a Seventh Year, James, I'm sure you've learnt enough from me." Her light eyes were piercing as they caught his own. "Maybe we should stop our tutoring lessons." And without another word (and before he could protest) she was gone, following Albus out of the large doors and down to the Dungeons, where her own Common Room resided, leaving James behind wondering what he'd done wrong.

**XxX**

"Hey, Rose."

Rose Weasley, eldest daughter or Ron and Hermione Weasley and soon-to-be-best-friend of Cassiopeia Malfoy, turned from where she'd been chatting with Albus, having met him in the entrance hall.

As the beautiful ginger approached, Albus hurriedly taking his leave, wondering (correctly) if the conversation that was about to take place would have anything to do with James' heartbroken expression that he'd seen only moments before.

"So, what is it you need?"

"I was wondering if we could take a walk." The younger girl seemed nervous, a small frown pasting itself onto her pale features as she turned away from the Weasley. Rose placed a hand lightly on her arm, her freckled but pretty face scrunching up in confusion as she nodded her assent

"Does this have anything to do with James?" She already knew the answer, of course, having heard James' mumbling to his friends – her cousins – the night before. However, in order for the Malfoy to open up, she would have to inform Rose of her own volition.

Cassi nodded and launched into her tale.

_Cassiopeia was late coming back from dinner, as she'd been talking with Severus Snape, her elderly Head of House, and Blaise Zabini, her Godfather and current Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. She'd heard James talking to someone but paid he no heed – after all, he had every right to talk to whoever he wanted to. She couldn't stop him._

_But then she heard her name._

"…_I heard little Miss. Malfoy was tutoring you all summer."_

_That was the unknown boy, the one she'd later learn as Dalton Grey, one of the only honest, non-Weasley people she'd met so far at Hogwarts. Of course, James would disagree._

_Peeping around the corner, she noticed the handsome blond hair and baby blue eyes of the Sixth-year Gryffindor before turning her eyes once more to James, wondering what he had to say. She knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but anyone would have done the same thing in her position._

_As it turned out, she probably would have rather not heard._

"_Yeah, she did." Cassi waited for him to elaborate. "Between you and me, she's a bit of a drag. Very boring. And, I mean, she's a Slytherin. They can't be good, can they?"_

_Cassi turned away, hurt at the hatred she'd heard in James voice, angry that he had been playing her all summer. Something niggled the back of her mind, something to do with Albus and Slytherin, but in her distraught state, she couldn't think what it was._

_All she knew for certain was that she had to terminate her supposed friendship with James. Although, from what she'd been privy to, he wouldn't exactly care._

Once she'd finished Rose was in stitches, which made Cassiopeia wonder, as _she_ hadn't thought it was very funny. She was also slightly hurt that Rose wasn't taking it seriously, but, she supposed, being related to the New Marauders had to give you a rebellious streak of some sort.

"Oh, Merlin, no. James doesn't hate you, sweetie," she giggled patronizingly; ignoring the slight glare she received at the unwanted nickname. "He _fancies _you. That's why he said those things. He doesn't want Dalton anywhere near you."

"That makes no sense," Cassi huffed, glowering into the lake as they stopped. "Why would James fancy me? He has anyone he would want in the whole Castle."

"Yes," Rose agreed with another bright giggle, "But none of them are you. If you don't believe me, fake-date Dalton Grey and see for yourself." As Cassiopeia turned away, fully intent on doing just that, Rose called after her, "It may be best for you to inform Grey of your intentions so that no one gets hurt."

A hand gesture was the only response she received.

**XxX**

"Dalton!"

He carried on walking.

"Dalton!"

Yet again she was ignored.

"_Dalton!_"

Finally, he turned, a grin on his face as he spied Cassiopeia Malfoy peering at him from one of the secret passages, having heard about it from James a couple of days previous. Fortunately for her, she had a free that lesson so it didn't matter if she skipped. Dalton, however, was needed in Care of Magical Creatures. Not exactly keen on losing an eye, Dalton hurried over to the younger girl, slipping in behind her and pressing both hands to the wall beside her head, breathing heavily.

"Yes?" His voice was husky, "Did you need that tour I offered you from last night."

She thought hard, "We can talk as we move. I have something to ask you." He nodded and the two moved out of their hiding space, making their way to the Gryffindor Common Room, which Dalton was desperate to show her despite the ban on having other Houses in your Common Room.

"Well?"

"There's this boy I like, but I heard him saying to y…I mean, someone else, that he thought I was boring and horrible. Rose – that's Rose Weasley – told me to try and make him jealous, which I don't think will work, but will it hurt to try?"

"So, let me get this straight. You like a Seventh year Gryffindor, but you heard him say to me that he hated you and now your aim is to make him jealous?"

"Ye – hey!" Her voice rose to a squeak, "I do not like James."

"Who said anything about James?" Her face resembled that of a gaping fish. "Oh, and, darling, denial isn't just a river in Egypt." Her expression didn't change. "I'll do it."

Her face brightened and she gave him an elaborate kiss on the cheek, "Thanks, you're brilliant, Dalton." And then a cheeky grin curled the corners of her lips as she coyly turned her head to one side. "What do you say to us starting now?"

A slight turn of the head proved _The Subject _(AKA James Sirius Potter) striding down the corridor towards them. Dalton turned back to her, sighing slightly and wondering why he was putting himself through this. _No one _wanted to be on the wrong side of the eldest Potter child, and Dalton had no doubts that he would be James' next victim.

However, he still nodded and pulled her towards him, latching onto her lips with his own. His eyes stayed open but hidden by her face so he could see the pain on James face as he looked at them, the hatred directed to none other than yours truly, the anger directed at Cassiopeia for, well, kissing him he supposed.

And then he turned and stomped off.

And Cassi pulled away, smirking.

"_Perfect,_' her voice was husky and low and it took all of Dalton's restraint not to kiss her again. Not to be mistaken for anything else, this was merely lust, no romantic feelings involved at all. But Dalton couldn't deny that she could kiss. It seemed that there was nothing the young Slytherin couldn't do.

"I still don't think this is a good idea," he called as she began to strut away. She threw him a sultry smirk over her shoulder, well aware that he was complaining for the sake of complaining. And she called him out on this.

"I didn't hear you protesting."

His laugh followed her, his voice gradually going fader so that the words, "I never would," were just a breath on the wind. Dalton found himself grinning, and he decided, rather stupidly if he did admit so himself, that he would go and provoke James, who clearly had some sort of romantic feelings for the auburn haired fifth-year.

"Oi, Potter." Dalton noticed with some satisfaction how James' hands curled themselves into fists at the mere sound of his voice. "Don't know why you thought Cassi was boring. She was far from it if you ask me."

"Yeah?" James had whirled around, furiousness tainting every inch of his handsome face. But Dalton wasn't a Gryffindor for no reason. "Well, you weren't exactly talking. But I suppose I shouldn't have expected anything less from a Malfoy. They've got bad blood, the whole lot of them."

Dalton laughed, unable to stop at the defensive tone tinting James' voice. The words, he was sure, would be practically eaten by the older Gryffindor at the later date once Cassiopeia found out, or rather, from the hint of ginger hair Dalton had just seen from the corner of his eye, sooner rather than later. Then again, it could have been any Weasley that he had seen as many of them (the only noticeable exceptions being Victoire, Louis, Dominique, Albus and James).

"I'm sure that's what you think."

Unfortunately, although James may not have inherited the unfortunate Weasley hair, he had inherited the Weasley blush, his whole face flaming as laughter broke out from either side of them, where a crowd had gathered to watch the proceedings.

"_Expelliarmus,_"

Dalton was thrown across the room before he could blink, his head smashing into the wall behind him. James was on top on him in a second, hands flying at a mile a minute, breaking skin with his harsh blows.

"Stop," the shriek drew the attention of both boys and, as James was pulled back by his best friends, Cassiopeia moved to Dalton's side, her hands cradling his head, pulling it into her lap. The long, red fingernails moved gently over his scalp, checking for any severe damage, and Dalton was pleased to note that provoking James wasn't all for naught. He looked furious.

"I'll take him to Madame Scamander, Professor." Her voice, like silk and ivory, flew through the air and, almost in a daze, Dalton noticed Headmistress McGonagall nod, her mouth speaking but he couldn't make out the words. James was saying something, his eyes flickering to her for the briefest moment, but then all went dark.


	7. Goodbye

**I was disappointed that I got no reviews for the last chapter, so I'm begging you. Please review. If you do I can get the next chapter up quicker. Thanks**

**Goodbye**

"_James Sirius Potter._"

James winced at the loud, furious voice, his eyes blinking innocently up at the furious face of Ginny Weasley-Potter, who had Harry behind her, James' only beacon of protection from his Mother's wrath. He could hear Cassiopeia on the other side of the Hospital Wing, cooing at Grey, one of her hands entwined with his. The Malfoy's, it seemed, had also been called, Lucius Malfoy included, who had immediately moved over to his Granddaughter's side.

"_Grandpere?_" Her voice rose to a quiet shriek as she jumped up, engulfing the elder man in a wide hug. The confused tint on Draco's face became more prominent at the small chuckle that fell from his Father's lips. Astoria had already parked herself on a chair near to them so that she could hear all that was happening with James but she wasn't immune to the conversation between Lucius Malfoy and her long-lost daughter.

"Why did you do it, Mr. Potter?" McGonagall asked, sounding, to James, just like she would have when scolding his Father in the old days. Now, however, the severity of the situation was mainly lost as the frail, old woman, although towering over James in his hospital bed, seemed like a gust of wind could knock her over. From what he'd heard, she hadn't been the same since his Father's fifth year (his Mother's fourth), when she'd been hit with five different stunners to the chest, knocking her unconscious for the best part of the year.

"I was provoked." James was well aware that the simple saying _'I was provoked' _would do nothing to dissuade McGonagall from giving the harshest punishment she had at her disposal (she'd never been much of a fan of fist fighting). But it was the true. There was no doubt in his mind that Dalton was using Cassi, even if he wasn't sure what exactly for, and the simple fact that instead of going up to him, someone she'd been tutoring for the best part of the year, she went up to Dalton, who she barely knew.

A tiny whisper at the back of his mind murmured that maybe she'd heard all that he'd been saying about her, from his first conversation with Dalton at the Welcome Feast, to his clear dismissal of there mere idea of having feelings for her – a Malfoy and a Slytherin, two things he supposedly detested despite the fact that his brother was a Slytherin and proud of it.

He shook the thought away.

McGonagall was still speaking.

"And what, pray tell, did Mr. Grey provoke you about?" her voice was clipped, a sure sign that she was angry. Dalton had even pushed himself up from the bed, despite the protests of Cassiopeia, his_ girlfriend _(for want of a better word as she did not seem like the type to kiss random strangers, and he hoped to God that she wasn't), and Luna Scamander, the School Nurse.

It appeared that McGonagall caught his subtle (at least to his own eyes) glance in Cassi's direction as a knowing look filtered across her elderly face. She said no more on that particular subject but called the two other students over, Cassi having to support Dalton due to his weak state. James wondered why he didn't just move beds as he was much less injured than the younger boy, but then figured, from the look of distaste that the Headmistress was giving him, that they didn't exactly see eye-to-eye. James would have wondered why this was, if it wasn't for Cassi's hand on Dalton's arm while her eyes bore into his own.

"I believe Miss. Malfoy and Mr. Potter need to talk. Follow me to my office the rest of you, we will sort it out there."

James sent up a prayer of thanks to his Professor for suggesting this as now provided the perfect time for him to find out exactly how much Cassiopeia had been privy to in regards to his feelings towards her.

"Why did you say it?"

"What?" He hoped beyond hope that he had misheard her, or that she was not meaning what he thought she did. From the minuscule tightening behind her eyes and the furious thinning of her lips, she meant exactly that. When she spoke, her voice had become a high-pitched, sarcastic version of his own, the tone seeming only barely restrained.

"_Between you and me, she's a bit of a drag. Very boring. And, I mean, she's a Slytherin. They can't be good, can they?"_

James felt as though he was suffocating, like he was drowning, the water enclosing over his head and hiding him from view. And the only thought in his head was: _I am an idiot. _He opened his mouth, to say what he wasn't exactly sure, but he knew that he needed to reassure her, to prove to her that what he'd said had been only the head of the moment and nothing was meant by it. But she cut him off.

"I wasn't done." And then her voice became even squeakier, even more furious. _"Well, you weren't exactly talking. But I suppose I shouldn't have expected anything less from a Malfoy. They've got bad blood, the whole lot of them." _Her face suddenly became deathly calm, no hint showing behind the carefully constructed mask. "You know, James, I actually thought we were friends…"

"We are."

She continued as if he had not spoken. "I actually thought that maybe, one day, we could become something more than _just friends. _I was already halfway to being in love with you. Now I see how deluded that was. You may have wanted me to help you in French or whichever other lessons I helped with, but I guess your friendship was just a ruse in order to get into whichever Quidditch team you're aiming for and need good grades to succeed in." _She had it all wrong. _"I suppose this is goodbye, James Sirius Potter, because I'll not be helping you with lessons again."

As she turned to leave, to leave him behind, he called out to her. _"Cassi."_ She flinched – at the desperation in his cracked voice or the nickname he'd called her he wasn't sure – but she flinched all the same. And then, to his utter surprise, she turned, taking a seat as far away as possible while still being able to hear what he had to say. And then she nodded, the action calm and controlled, no sense of the past pain she had suffered.

And he spoke.

He told her about Matty, about his insecurities, about his fear because she was auburn haired and Matty had been the same, how he had only just begun to realise that they weren't the same person, how he'd been furious about Dalton getting to want to know her better … how he was falling in love with her.

But once he'd finished, a tear sliding down her cheek was the only outward sign that she had heard what he'd said. He knew forgiveness wasn't an option just yet (although a small sliver of him hoped for it) but he was just glad she'd listened to his reasons, even if they weren't an excuse.

"I'm sorry for you." That was all she said. "I'm sorry for you." Then she stood, glancing him over once, as though checking for injuries, and then she turned and walked away. At the doorway, she turned back, "You're right. I'm not Matty Davidson. I never will be."

And then she was gone.

**XxX**

Ara Black slowly, gently, removed herself from Dethre Parkinson's clutches and moved almost in a daze over to the full-length mirror in the bathroom, pulling her clothes on as she went. She prodded the blazing red marks that littered her body, _'his marking her', _as Dethre always said. But she knew better. She was nothing to him and he was nothing to her, and she hated with a vengeance what she had been forced to become.

Now, after months of this abuse (and many years before that when Dethre had been trying to get Bellatrix to give her daughter over to him) she could barely remember the strong, independent woman she had been before.

Ara knew they were planning something. She wasn't stupid, she had seen the snide looks, the quiet whispers, the harsh fear, but before this she had never bothered to try and find out what the plan was about. Now she knew. If only she could find out what her Mother was planning, then maybe she could be free.

"Where d'you think you're going?"

She flinched, attempting to move away from _him_ and out of the room that had become her own, personal form of torture. But Dethre (how fitting that he was to have a name so closely related to death when that was exactly how he made her feel) was having none of it, his hand curling itself around her skinny wrist as he tugged her onto the bed. Taking a deep breath and vowing to herself that this would be the last time, Ara leaned forward, burying her head in his shoulder and fighting back the bile that had risen to her throat.

"You don't want me to be found here, do you?" For extra effect she placed a kiss on the hollow of his throat. "It could get messy if I was. And, anyway, don't you have a meeting at one thirty." At his shocked, suspicious look, she hurriedly added, "You mentioned it yesterday whilst we were…" She trailed off, eyes glancing at the ruffled sheets of the bed.

Dethre nodded, agreeing almost instantly with whatever the beautiful girl wanted. As Ara rose, she swiftly pulled her wand out of her pocket and pointed it at his, feeling all the hatred she had ever felt for him pooling into her very veins as she spoke the word that could either make or break her.

"_Imperio._"

She noticed, almost with divine satisfaction, the look of serenity that fell across his face, his feeble mind unable to break through her surprisingly powerful Unforgivable. She was aware of the sentence for using an Unforgivable; life imprisonment in Azkaban if you were lucky, the Dementor's kiss if you weren't. She could only hope that everything would resolve itself before that came to be.

"You are to act as you normally would during the Meeting but report to me once it is over. You will know where to go."

And with those last, ominous words, Ara Phoenix Black – illegitimate daughter of Lord Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange – slipped out of Dethre Parkinson's bedroom and disappeared from the Manor for good – or so she hoped.

**XxX**

"Do we have any idea who the New Order are going to be targeting first?" Kingsley Shaklebolt asked from the front of the room, his normally serene face shrouded with worry. They had thought this all over and done with at the demise of Tom Riddle, but it seemed that there was much more going on behind the scenes than even the Order of the Phoenix had been aware of.

"Think of the consequences of the Final Battle," an elderly voice said to the room, halting all movement. Every eye turned to the portrait in pride of place behind the Headmistress' chair. Albus Dumbledore blinked his clear blue eyes once, seeming to gleam from behind his traditional half-moon spectacles that were perched on the end of the long, pointed nose. "All will become clear with time." And, as was very common with the former Headmaster, his confusing words were the last he would say on the matter as he turned and disappeared from his portrait, leaving the room in even more bewilderment than before.

"They're obviously going after James, Albus or Lily," Remus murmured, his face slightly ashen, as it was only days before the full moon. He had refused, however, to miss the meeting, even if he was barely able to stand. Tonks had one of her tiny hands fisted in his shirt so that he did not collapse.

"So, should be put an Auror on each of the three Potter children and then a few more to patrol the Castle at random in case we are mistaken?" Dana Finnegan (Seamus' young wife) asked in her typical dreamy way, sounding much like Luna Lovegood-Scamander, who was currently not there, having been forced to take Dalton Grey back to the Hospital Wing when he'd nearly fainted (despite his objections to the contrary).

"I think so, yes," Kingsley murmured with a nod, noticing with satisfaction the relief that flooded through Harry's face at the thought of his children being safe. However, Kingsley had to add the other shred of worry that had been gnawing at him. "What if they are after a more general view, such as kidnapping, for instance, Rose, or Hugo? They may not strictly be after the Boy-Who-Lived children."

"I agree." Although it clearly pained him to say it, Harry was nodding along. "We should have Auror's to every year group where there is a Weasley / Potter in order to prevent any other attempted kidnapping."

"And throughout the rest of the school as well?" Parvati murmured, frowning slightly at the rest of them. "What if we are mistaken and they are not after the Potter's before, but are after another family that has wronged them by changing sides in the War?"

"If you are talking about the Malfoy's, don't bother," Quentin Oldtoon snapped in her direction, his eyes flicking spitefully to her husband. "Lucius Malfoy –" and then he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like _'spineless coward' _"– Is still working for them, and doesn't show any signs of stopping soon."

"He saved Cassi's life," Astoria murmured from her perch on top of the teacher's desk. "I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt because of that…nothing else."

"Meeting adjourned."

**XxX**

The next day, as was typical in the Auror department to get things sorted as soon as possible, Auror's had been stationed with years four to seven, every House receiving the same treatment. Students couldn't enter or exit classrooms without being checked thoroughly, they couldn't leave the grounds full stop and had to be present for every meal, where an Attendance was called to see who was missing.

To make matters worse, not only were the students unsure of why exactly this was happening, but none of the leading Aurors were even in the school, busy as they were with trying to solve the case.

To Ara Black, it wasn't that hard to sneak into Hogwarts, despite the extra protection. The next part of her task would be slightly harder: finding Harry Potter. She still remembered with sharp clarity what an _Imperioed _Dethre had informed her.

_Ara was waiting, as she always seemed to be doing, for the Meeting of the New Order to reach its summit and for dear old Dethre Parkinson to meet her in her desired meeting spot, one which only she (and soon, Dethre) would have the pleasure of knowing._

"_Well?"_

_Dethre didn't move, her only stared at her with those blank, creepy eyes, and it took all of her willpower not to storm up and slap him senseless, pulling him from whatever stupor he had put himself into this time. But she refrained from doing so, knowing that the so-called 'stupor' was the result of her mind-bogglingly powerful _Imperius _curse._

"_What was discussed?"_

_Ara went back to filing her nails, only half-listening to the former Death Eater prattle on about some important thing or other. And then she stopped, hearing a name that made her blood run cold._

"_Hold it." And he did. "Rewind." To her surprise, he did, going straight back to the beginning._

"_Lily Potter, the youngest Potter child, is our first target. Once she is within our grasps, we will finally be able to wreak vengeance on those who destroyed our world."_

_Ara nodded, dismissing him with one wave of a perfectly manicured hand._

And now she was looking for Harry Potter, to inform him of the dangers his youngest child was in. The Halls of Hogwarts all looked the same to her; having had private tutors most of her life. She couldn't help but hope that maybe, once her Mother had been taken down, that she could attend Hogwarts herself. That was very slim, however.

"_Miss Black?"_

The incredulous voice made her turn, staring in surprise at Mr. Potter, who'd come up behind her without her notice. She'd met him once before, when she'd been standing by her Mother and Father in those final moments before Lord Voldemort had fallen. And now here she was once more, staring up at him, feeling more than a little fear coursing through her veins.

"Your daughter's in danger."

She hadn't meant to say it, but Harry Potter had that effect on her…one where she just wanted to tell him the truth. She supposed it came from being the Boy-Who-Lived and surviving death more times than anyone cared to count.

"Come."

He turned and she followed, being joined halfway by Ron and Hermione Weasley, both of whom threw her nervous and fearful glances. Ara could tell that they didn't trust her as far as they could throw her (to say the least) and she could also see why the three of them struck so much fear into Lord Voldemort, they were terrifying when together, their clothes flapping around their ankles like a bats wings.

It appeared that the Golden Trio (as they had been named by the Daily Prophet after their stunt in the Department of Mysteries in their fifth year) didn't want anyone knowing that there had been a breach in security, resulting in Ara being able to break into the school and, therefore, only the Malfoy's, Kingsley Shaklebolt, Minerva McGonagall, and Ginny Weasley-Potter were present in the Office when they arrived. Ara was sure that Neville Longbottom and Luna Scamander would also be involved in this number if they hadn't been busy at that particular point in time. She supposed it was quite fortunate that she had been forced to remember everyone who had taken part in the demise of her Father and, therefore, knew who was in the Headmistress' Office.

"What makes you say that?"

After taking a pinch of _Veritaserum_, Ara hurriedly recounted all that she had learnt from Dethre Parkinson, taking in (with some trepidation) the small frown that had fleetingly crossed Harry Potter's face. His wife seemed terribly worried, and was less able to hide it than he was, while Ron and Hermione had both sat down, relief mixed with guilt and worry in their expressions.

Once she'd finished all that Harry did was nod, and, with that, she was dismissed, rushing out of the Castle with her head down, hoping not to be seen. She wasn't entirely successful.


	8. The Slytherin Seeker

**xXxLasting-MemoriesxXx - Thanks for the review, I'm glad you like the story. I hope this chapter meets your expectations.**

**Slytherin Seeker**

As soon as Ara Black disappeared around the corner, Dethre seemed to come out of his dazed state, a smirk crossing his lips. He knew exactly where Ara was headed, and, although that made him furious, he knew that the best course of action at that moment was to just wait.

The _Imperius _Curse– especially one as strong as Ara's – should have been enough to keep him under until the end of the meeting, but Dethre had been trained to withstand it. If that hadn't been enough, he knew that his Father and Bellatrix would have been able to. She hadn't stood a chance. And now Harry Potter thought that his _darling _daughter would be the one targeted, when that wasn't true at all.

"Did she fall for it?"

"Did you doubt me, Father?"

Dethre turned to face his Father and Bellatrix, both of whom had twin smirks curling their thin lips.

"Of course not."

**XxX**

James closed his eyes, placing his hands over them with a defeated groan. The whole of the New Marauders were sitting beside him, frowns of confusion etched on every face (well, to be honest, Roxanne seemed more annoyed than anything).

"What happened?"

"Obviously Cassiopeia found out what he's been saying about her." She cocked her head to one side, "I'm guessing she wasn't exactly happy about it." She gave him a small smirk, "If you ask me you deserved it."

"I…" But James could think of no rebuttal, knowing that his cousin was correct. He deserved Cassi's hatred, no matter how much it pained him to think of it, but he knew one thing for certain. No matter what happened next, whether she was determined to hate him until they were both ancient, he would (one day) win her forgiveness. And he wouldn't stop trying until he did.

"Anyway, let's not talk about her for the moment, we have news," Fred said, speaking up for the first time, eyes fixed on James' face, watching for any reaction. "Someone came into Hogwarts, we're not sure who, but they said – under _Veritaserum _– that Lily was the one the New Order wanted to kidnap. Needless to say, your Father's increased her patrol, meaning that there are very little patrolling the other corners of Hogwarts."

"Lily's in trouble?" That was all that James understood from Fred's long paragraph. "We have to go to her." He attempted to rise but Roxanne signaled to her twin and cousin and the two held him down, Fred shaking his head.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you."

Their eyes turned to Dalton Grey, who was situated on a bed on the other side of the Hospital wing, his leg in a cast from where James had broken it in three different places, and a bandage around his head, where it had been harshly banged into the wall. James didn't even flinch as the injuries he had caused came into view. In his eyes, no matter whether he'd told Cassiopeia of his feelings, she was still dating Grey, and he wouldn't feel guilty for beating him to a pulp (metaphorically speaking, of course).

"Madam Scamander is scary, even if she is slightly loony."

"She's a family friend," Roxanne snapped defensively, James' hatred of the younger boy manifesting into her. At her words, Dalton only laughed, not seeming fazed by the furious elder Gryffindors.

"Doesn't make a difference. No one can deny that she's not all here."

James stopped George from leaping at Dalton, shaking his head sharply. Although many may have believed that James stopping his best friend and cousin from injuring someone he considered an enemy would have been an act of truce, Dalton knew better. James only didn't want himself in even deeper trouble with the fifth-year Slytherin, who had just appeared in the doorway, unnoticed by James but not by George, Fred and Roxanne.

"Luna said that you can leave now, as long as you take this before you go to sleep. It's a numbing potion," she snapped, glancing only once a James (long enough to give him the potion but not much else) before moving almost in a daze over to her _boyfriend. _That word created a bitter taste in James' mouth, thinking how that could have been him if he hadn't messed up.

He only glanced at the two younger students in order to see them engage in a quick kiss before he jumped up and rushed from the room, his friends following him. Fred chucked a disgusted glance in Cassi's direction, which she missed, being too wrapped up in Dalton.

**XxX**

"He definitely cares," Dalton murmured in her ear as she pressed a kiss to his neck, listening carefully for the sound of James leaving, which he did soon after.

"I'm sorry if I've caused any problems between your House," she whispered, making sure to keep her voice low so as to not alert anyone to the conversation that was sure to take place. She sat down heavily next to him on the bed before asking the question that had been on her mind since she'd heard the news. "Do you really believe that Bellatrix Lestrange and her cronies are after Lily?"

"I'm not sure, but I don't think Ara would lie." His voice held such surety that it made Cassi pause for a moment, her eyes holding his captive. "She's not that type of girl."

"You know who it was?" Cassi made sure that her voice showed nothing of what she was feeling, only seeming slightly bored. "Who's Ara?"

To her utter amazement Dalton actually blushed, his cheeks tinting a faint pink in the fading light from outside. At first he didn't say anything, and Cassi was sure that he wasn't going to, but then he murmured, "Ara Black. She's an old family friend. My Father is a good friend of Antonio Parkinson and Bellatrix Lestrange." He nodded sagely at the gasp that ripped from her fake girlfriends throat. "He doesn't work for the New Order but he certainly agrees with their ideals. Anyway, I grew up with her – she's Bellatrix's illegitimate daughter –, Daniela Zabini and Croydon Young. The four of us were inseparable. I saw her leaving the Castle earlier, so she must have been the one to inform Mr. Potter of the danger his daughter is in."

"And what of Daniela and Croydon? Where are they now? I mean, Dani is the daughter of Blaise Zabini, Defense Instructor, right?" At his nod, she added, "He's my godfather." Cassiopeia hated the interrogating tone her voice had taken on, but did nothing to change it. From his slightly smirk, Dalton had noticed it, too, but he said nothing against it and, instead, answered her question.

"Daniela's family moved to Italy in order to escape the War and now she goes to Bellissimi Cavalli, despite her Father working here. Croydon actually goes here. He's a Sixth year Ravenclaw. If we all went here, I'm sure we'd take up all four Houses." He let out a sad chuckle. "There is no doubt in my mind that Dani would be a Hufflepuff. She's too kind for her own good." His eyes became even sadder, if that was possible, his face turning down in sorrow. "And Ara would be a Slytherin. She may not have been on Voldemort's side, but she will do anything to get what she wants." He sighed, "I wish to be reunited to them one day."

"You will reunite with them one day, I'm sure of it. Now, onto a happier note, are you coming to the Slytherin tryouts on Saturday? I'm sure James will be there, and you're on the Quidditch team," she chirped, looking excited.

"I was planning on it, but James is the Captain and I'm sure he wouldn't want me there." At her pout, he hurriedly added, "But if you wish me to be, I'll be there." She beamed, giving him a big hug, and then she rushed from the room, shouting over her shoulder than she needed to practice if she was to be ready in time for tryouts.

**XxX**

Saturday dawned bright and clear, perfect weather for the Quidditch tryouts that were to take place after breakfast. Or rather, perfect weather for most people. The youngest Malfoy, however, preferred the blustery wind of September to the cool chill of December, as, in her slightly twisted mind, she believed it made her fly better. That was a matter still up for discussion.

Nonetheless, at the stroke of eleven, without first eating breakfast, Cassi was on her way to the Quidditch pitch, her hands trembling in excitement. Two of her fellow roommates, and, aside from her brothers, the closest friends she had in Slytherin, followed her.

Elsa Driana was a dwarf-like creature with long, blond hair that could make her pass as a Malfoy. Alexis was sure that she was a distant relation of some sort, but didn't mention it for fear of being mistaken. Her eyes were a deep green like those of the male Potter kids, but, unfortunately, thoughts of the Potter's brought thoughts of James, which Cassi desperately wanted to forget.

Anastasia Krum, on the other hand, was tall and skinny, with dark hair that seemed almost black, and a large, upturned nose that made it constantly seem like she was looking down on those around her when the opposite was actually true. Her Father, a brother to the famous Viktor Krum, had actually helped invent the Firebolt, which made Abraxus, Cassi's eldest brother, giddy with excitement, as he wanted to do something of the sort when he left school.

"This is going to be awesome," Elsa squealed, flicking her long hair out of her eyes. "I mean, Ana can help you create brooms when you become famous." Her eyes squinted slightly, "Or not, depending if that's what she wants to do or not." Another thing about Elsa: she was extremely ditzy, but it seemed cute on her whereas on someone like Antonella Clark, a Ravenclaw in the year above, it seemed almost stupid. Cassi may, or may not as she refused to believe it, have also been slightly bias against Antonella seeing as James had started dating (or snogging, as Rose had assured) her the night before.

"I do, actually. Abs has said he's going to help me with some of the stuff that he's learnt," she let out a bright, girlish giggle that didn't seem to fit with her dark personality or looks. "Not that I'll need it, of course, seeing as _Papa _has already taught me most everything, and Uncle Vik's been teaching me to ride a broom since before I could even walk. Of course, I'll have to humour him, as he is remarkably handsome."

"Ha," Elsa sneered good-naturedly, "As if he'd go for someone like you. You're too…intense."

As the two best friends argued, Cassi only rolled her eyes, making her solitary way to the Quidditch pitch, hearing Elsa and Ana rushing to catch up. Her wavy, auburn hair floated around her face like a halo, her baby blue eyes regarded her fellow hopefuls with a judgmental air. She had already ruled out the ones who would pose no trouble and the ones who she would have to watch out for.

As the Captain, and, ironically, her second eldest brother, Septimus, the Keeper, strode onto the pitch, the two fifth-year Slytherin girls slunk up to the stands, cheering Cassi on before she'd even gotten onto her _Starlight 600, _the newest broom on the market. The current members of the Slytherin Quidditch team, Jason Danivon, the fourth-year Beater best friend of Lily Potter and Hugo Weasley, and Chasers Albus and Scorpius. Although Jason was small in stature, being only slightly taller than Cassiopeia herself, but that wasn't saying much, as she only reached 5ft 4, he was one of the strongest Beaters seen since the Weasley twins themselves had attended Hogwarts, and there was many rumours circulating that Fred and George had actually trained him themselves despite him being a Slytherin.

"Right, so if you're trying out for Keeper or Beater, you can leave immediately. I'm certain we won't be able to beat the ones we already have." He flashed a charming grin around the arena, causing many girls in the stands to sigh in desire. He gave them an irritated look before turning back to the hopefuls. "Now, we'll have five laps around the Quidditch pitch. Go!"

Albus and Scorpius, who had also been subjected to the same punishment as a way to wheedle out some of the hopefuls, decided instead to join Cassi, teasing her by pulling her hair and snickering under their breaths about James and Antonella, who were sucking face in the audience despite it being the Quidditch tryouts. Cassiopeia was probably the only one who didn't see his eyes flicker to her every few seconds despite the girl currently in his arms. Dalton was sitting next to him, looking disgusted.

In response to their teasing, Scorpius' twin grasped Jason's Beaters bat as she passed him and hit one in her annoying brother and his friend's direction. Both pouted dramatically at her before flying off, and Cassi gave the bat back with an apologetic grin. Jason only rolled his eyes and gave her a small smile in response.

"Seekers over to me and Jason, Chasers over to Albus and Scorpius," Cassi's elder brother shouted, with her rushing over to him. Abraxus gave her a quick wink from the stands where he was sitting alone, one eye on the notes in front of him, the other watching the tryouts like a hawk.

**XxX**

James sighed deeply, finally giving up. She hadn't looked at him once, no matter what he did, but he supposed he deserved that. From his position in the sky, James noticed Al rolling his eyes and throwing him an exasperated look, but he ignored it for the time being, as usual all his attention focused on the beautiful, hopeful-Seeker.

Antonella gently breezed her hand up his arm, goosepimples rising on the cool skin, not from lust, but from disgust. She seemed to have an inability to keep her hands to herself, which would probably be the reason he used in order to break up with her at a later date. He filed that thought away for a later date.

"Hey, Jamie."

"Don't call me that," his head snapped around in the direction of Roxanne, who'd spoken. At her raised hands, he sighed, mumbling a quick apology. "What did you need?"

"Watch that."

And he glanced over to where she was pointing, stunned at the sight before him. Unlike the rest of the hopefuls, who were rushing around the pitch in the hopes of finding a glimpse of the elusive Snitch, Cassi had her eyes closed, her head tilted sideward as she listened carefully. James knew exactly what she was doing, but it was said to be the trickiest move in the whole of Quidditch.

The Seeker, in this case Cassiopeia, had to close their eyes and _feel _the position the Snitch was in using only the power of hearing. Once they had clocked in on the slight whirring sound emitted, they could catch it in no time, usually without much opposition. The only problem was that, with the stands in a frenzy over which team had scored the last point; it was extremely difficult to listen for something so tiny in a stadium so big. From the way her eyes suddenly popped open, Cassi was able to perform it perfectly.

A deep dive clocked those closest to her into what was about to happen, but by the time they moved, the little golden ball was firmly clutched inside a tightly shaking fist.

And Cassiopeia Lyra Malfoy became the newest Slytherin Seeker.


	9. Kidnapping

**Kidnapping**

James sighed heavily as he finally shook Antonella off, retreating to the safety of the Gryffindor Common Room, or, more specifically, the Seventh Year Boy's Dormitory. He had rushed past Fred and George, only sparing them a sparse glance before disappearing up, locking the door the way his Uncle Percy had taught him before he became known as a prankster. For some reason, Uncle Percy believed that if he taught James a lot of what he knew, James wouldn't turn out to be like the Greatest Pranksters in Hogwarts (aka, the first Fred and George). He turned out to be completely, absolutely, unequivocally wrong.

A quick (and messy) rummage through his overflowing trunk later, and the spiral-bound notebook appeared before him, the first page already filled with thick, black ink. To his dismay (but not exactly surprise), he had no new messages. But he hoped to change that.

_I know at the moment you probably want nothing to do with me, but I need to talk to you. Please meet me in the Room of Requirement at midnight._

A moment later.

_I'll be there._

A leap of joy that made him seem extremely girly later, Fred, George, and Roxanne had entered the room, Roxy with a look of utter disgust on her freckled face. However, to the surprise of the three boys, she said nothing, and instead sat down gingerly on the edge of James' bed. And then she turned her attention to her blushing cousin.

"What was that?"

He attempted to ignore her, shoving the notebook under the covers of his already-completely-messy bed, but he needed have bothered. Roxanne was only humouring him. She'd seen the spiral-bound notebook he'd so meticulously (note the sarcasm) tried to hide, and it was soon in her thin hands through the use of a useful summoning spell.

"Is it to Cassiopeia?"

At his sharp nod, a look of sadness flew over her pretty, tanned features (she was probably the only redhead in existence who wasn't as pale as a ghost). James seemed so dejected, so unhappy, that the one girl he'd cared about since Matty Davidson wanted nothing more to do with him. Although, by the note in the notebook, that observation wasn't exactly true. She gave a sharp sigh.

"Do what you have to do. However, don't expect to be forgiven any time soon." As he nodded hurriedly, rising to leave the awkward atmosphere, she added, "Oh, and never be so stupid again."

"Poor guy," Fred murmured once their messy-haired cousin had left the room. "It's ridiculous of Malfoy to date someone so soon after telling James she was falling in love with him.

"Um, Fred?" his twin murmured. As his head popped in her direction, she said, "She started dating Dalton before she told James that she was falling in love with him. Remember? She told him that in the Hospital wing."

"So she did," Fred mused as he was wacked on the head with a pillow from their thus-silent cousin. "So she did."

**XxX**

Midnight came around sooner than James would have liked even though his heart was beating a mile a minute in the hope of seeing Cassiopeia. The fear of rejection was still one a massive worry, despite the fact that he was doubtful she would even deign to talk to him for too long before disappearing with _Dalton, _the 'perfect' boyfriend.

At the Room, James was stunned and slightly fearful, as Cassi had not yet arrived and he was fifteen minutes late, despite leaving ten minutes early. Cassiopeia Malfoy was never one to be late, as he had learnt in the summer. And he finally allowed himself to think of the worst possibility.

He had been stood up. She wasn't coming.

At precisely 12: 31, he made his dejected way back to the Gryffindor Common Room, not noticing the cruel, almost-lifeless eyes that followed his every move before pulling a still body out of a hidden alcove.

**XxX**

Cassi glanced down at the note James had written. As much as she did not feel ready to forget the hurt he had caused her, she knew that, in order to have her peace of mind, she had to at least forgive. And so that was what she was going to do.

_I'll be there._

The words appeared to leap out at her, taunting her with their innocent feel. She was going to test James. It was something she had just decided. She was going to test him.

As much as she realised that she probably had no reason to do what she wished to, she wanted him to give up the stupid Ravenclaw bimbo (as much of an oxymoron as that seemed to be) he currently had hanging off him in order for her to even consider becoming friends with him once more.

With that thought firmly in her mind, she glided gracefully down into the Slytherin Common Room, grinning distractedly at her twin and his best friend. Albus, with a small grin on his handsome yet still slightly pudgy face, rose and approached her.

"Have you decided to forgive him? I don't think I should have to listen to my brother griping on about you and _'that damned Grey bloke' _anymore. It's sickening." His voice had risen to a screech, prompting the Common Room to go silent. "Oh, go back to your knitting," he snapped the same line that the first generation of Fred and George Weasley had spoken back during the Triwizard Tournament. This encouraged a giggle from Cassiopeia as she shook her head indulgently.

"Yes, I've forgiven him. I'm actually seeing him in the Room of Requirement at midnight," she checked her watch with a grin, "I should probably be leaving now. I'll see you later?" She posed it as a question but both knew it was anything but. Her fake-innocent look melded into a devious one as she gave Albus a peck on the cheek before leaving, almost skipping her way to James, exciting for a chance for the two of them to reconcile.

**XxX**

It may have been a brief lapse in judgment, or it may have been the lateness of one particular trainee Auror to his next post (he was later sacked for his disregard of the pupils' safety). It may have even been the simple fact that most of the Aurors had been trained on little Lily Potter rather than watching the rest of the school. No one expected Ara Black to lie (as they believed at the time) and no one expected that, as the morning sun rose over the Black Lake, Anastasia Krum would announce that Cassiopeia Malfoy had not come back to their dormitory last night.

"She's probably off snogging some random Hufflepuff," James muttered, a tinge of jealousy that he tried hard to hide creeping into his voice. Although he truly was upset at having been stood up, none of his inner feelings crept onto his attractive features. Antonella Clark had one long-nailed hand scratching at his arm, but he only shoved her away, irritation overtaking him. But he said nothing.

"That can't be right," Albus denied as he slipped over to the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, one of his hands curled around Elsa Driana's as she stood next to him. Cassiopeia's other Slytherin friend, Anastasia, had been the one to inform the resident Weasley / Potter Clan of the newest development, and Scorpius was stood behind the two, a look of confusion mixed heavily with worry on his pale countenance.

_"__Why?"_

James didn't want to believe that there was any reason other than anger for Cassiopeia not to have turned up. Obviously, she wanted to give him a piece of the pain he'd made her feel, but James had to admit (even if it was in the furthest corner of his mind) that it didn't seem like her. She wasn't one to say she would turn up somewhere and then not do so. And that scared him.

"She told me that she was coming to visit you in the Room of Requirement last night." Albus' voice had taken on a rustic feel, a roll of his eyes adding to the picture as he slipped in between his older brother and younger sister.

"Yeah, but…"

"She never returned to the Dormitory last night," Elsa murmured, speaking up for the first time. Her face was scrunched up in confusion, but James noted that she didn't look terrified like the rest of them did. He was certain that she didn't know anything of Cassiopeia's whereabouts, but that must mean that Cassi did this sort of thing a lot.

"If she was kidnapped or something, then they must have had someone on the inside helping them."

"She hasn't been kidnapped," James hissed with a roll of his emerald green eyes, "They're after Lily, not Cassi. Why would they go after her anyway? I mean, Lily is _Harry Potter's _daughter."

"Yes, but Bellatrix Lestrange (and I'm only guessing that she is at the head of this) isn't just angry with Father for killing Voldemort –" Albus noted with some satisfaction that no one flinched. "– She's also angry at Draco Malfoy for changing sides halfway through the war even though his Father didn't. What is the one way to knock out two birds with one stone, so to speak?" At the multitude of shrugs he received, he added, "You go after someone important to both the Malfoy family and ours. James' soon-to-be-girlfriend and the youngest Malfoy child."

"Okay," James agreed with a nod, ignoring the smirks he received as his face visibly brightened at his brother's last words, "Your theory is plausible. But I still see a fault."

"And what is that?"

"Where's Lily? Maybe they went after _her_ last night."

At that moment, the gilded doors of the Great Hall burst open and none other than Lily Luna Potter strode inside, one of her hands clasped around Lorcan Scamander's. The two female Slytherin fifth-years tensed up, expecting Lily's older brothers to 'fly off the handle' at the idea of her dating. Neither batted an eyelash, engaged in their own battle of wills.

"Hey guys, what's up?" Lily slipped onto the Gryffindor bench, giving the three out-of-place Slytherins a confused look. Two of the trainee Aurors that had been assigned to guard her were dogging her footsteps, prompting a deep glower from the youngest Potter as they slipped onto the bench on either side of her, shoving Lorcan bodily out of the way without so much as a sorry.

"What's up is that Cassi's missing," Anastasia snapped before James could stop her, frowning. "She's been missing since last night when she…" she trailed off, nodding her head in the eldest Potter child's direction. Lily nodded in understanding although it wasn't clear whether James had told her or not.

"This should go to Mr. Shaklebolt," one Auror murmured, moving to rise from the bench. A rolled eye later and he was sitting down once more, his fellow Auror-in-training flicking his wand in a complicated pattern to make a faintly glowing Dalmatian appear.

"Inform Kingsley Shaklebolt that Cassiopeia Malfoy is missing." As the dog waited patiently for more instructions, he hurriedly added, "Go."

"This is Kenneth Howard," Lily said, looking unconcerned that the youngest Malfoy child was missing. When asked later, she informed the Judge that she knew Cassi could look after herself and wouldn't let anyone, much less her kidnappers, push her around. "And this," she indicated the Dalmatian patronus' owner, "Is Daniel Thornes. They're the Aurors sent to guard me, although," she glowered at each in turn, "They probably would have been put to more use patrolling the Castle.

"Do you think she'll be okay?" Elsa asked after a small pause, frowning down at the plate of toast and jam Albus had put before her. He placed one hand on her arm.

"She'll be fine." And then, as if that particular section of conversation was over, he turned back to James. "Going back to what we were saying earlier, if she was kidnapped, someone in the Castle must have helped them. Who do you reckon it was?"

No one noticed Elsa tense up, or the quick glare Anastasia sent her when no one was looking. In a moment, both their faces had become impassive again, one of Elsa's hands still resting in Albus' hand. He kissed the top of her head.

"He looks suspicious," James muttered, pointing in what he must have thought was a discreet manner at a Hufflepuff Sixth-year Prefect across the hall, who had one hand up to his lips, biting at his fingernails, whilst the other was flicking through a History of Magic textbook which he had propped up using his cool glass of pumpkin juice.

"That's Ellis Elton," a voice stated from behind them, noticing the direction James' glare was directed. "And what has he supposedly done?" Dalton Grey sat down with a loud thump, much to the distress of James, who opened his mouth ready to shout (for what, he wasn't quite sure), but before he could even get a word out, Shaklebolt had strode into the Hall, his royal purple robes flowing around his ankles.

"Come with me and tell me everything that you know. Don't leave anything out."

And the Potters, Weasleys, Scamanders, and Longbottoms left the Great Hall, Dalton trailing behind, faint with confusion.

**XxX**

Cassiopeia opened her eyes curiously. Compared to many other thriller stories, where it takes the captured heroine ages to figure out where they are, Cassi knew immediately. Or rather, she didn't know _exactly_ where she was, but she could have a very educated guess if given half a chance.

She knew for certain that she was in some sort of cell. There were no windows, which was understandable, which led her to believe that she was in basement of some Manor House of some sort. It didn't belong to the Malfoy Manor in England, as she had visited there a couple of times and it was a lot neater than this, although, in her opinion, it was also a lot creepier as she knew exactly who'd been held in there during the Second Wizarding War. Also, she knew it didn't belong to her parents house, as, obviously, she had been living there since returning to England from the Malfoy Summer House in France.

The cell was almost completely bare, only a bundle of rags in one corner specifying that someone had been in there recently. Fortunately, she didn't believe that anyone had been _in _the rags for a long time, as they seemed relatively clean and any bloodstains had been cleared away. The door was a thick, imposing figure standing to attention along the far wall and Cassi was sure it was barred with not just magic but a Muggle bar as well.

Contrary to popular belief, Cassi wasn't completely _girly-girl, _as her _Grandmere _had been trying to turn her into for years. Yes, she liked dresses and such, but she also knew how to defend herself, compliments of _Grandpere Lucius_, and she was sure that she'd have to show her prowess against whoever held her captive.

A loud _'creak' _turned her attention to the door as it opened, slamming into the wall with a bang that seemed to shake the very foundations of the clearly ancient house. The man who entered was unfamiliar to her, but that didn't stop the cold, creeping feeling of unease that threatened to choke her.

His hair, which appeared to be a mere blob on his aged face, fell over his eyes and down to the tops of his shoulders, to be tied at the nape of his neck with a simple, crimson hair bobble. His face was lined, which Cassi supposed was to be expected as he must have been at least fifty years old, although he could have been older due to the seemingly timeless quality that seemed to have attached itself to him. His eyes seemed to be a mixture of blue and green, but could have been grey through the darkness seeping into the cell.

He took a couple of steps forward until he came to a stop in front of his captive. He stood tall, hands clasped behind his back, feet shoulder-width apart. The thick, Italian leather coating his feet combined with the business suit gathered on his thin figure gave him the impression of a rich man, one who would be far removed from the world of kidnapping. And so, Cassiopeia had to wonder what he wanted with her.

"Cassiopeia Malfoy, is it not?"

Even his voice was refined, the darkened timbre a mere whisper in the raw air. And he took another step forward, heels clicking on the stone ground. His hands came to rest by his side, one of them gripping something through the pocket of his Muggle trousers; a wand, she was sure.

"Fascinating things, Muggles," he murmured when she made no move to speak. He brushed a piece of invisible link off his impeccable jacket before straightening the collar roughly. "Not good for much, but you can't deny that they make good clothing." He let out a laugh unlike any Cassi had ever heard. If she was to guess, she would say that it sounded remarkably like her _Grandpere Lucius', _making the young Malfoy certain that this man had once been a follower of You-Know-Who, of Voldemort.

"I quite like many of their inventions," Cassiopeia agreed when he was determined that he wasn't going to speak. "Mobile phones, for instance. They make contacting people around the world easier."

"Ah, yes," he agreed with an amicable nod, pulling his wand from his pocket (she had been correct on the location) and flicking it once. Cassi flinched, certain that some spell of some sort would connect with her thin form, but nothing happened. "This also makes it good to contact people…or rather, one person in particular."

A moment later, an unidentifiable object crashed onto the ground before her. A deep gasp tore from her throat as she took in the spiral-bound notebook which had been opened to the last page, James' note on display. She gently reached out to take it, holding it almost reverently in both hands, eyes wide.

"So you definitely had someone at Hogwarts helping you kidnap me," Cassi murmured, pulling the notebook into her chest. He made no move to take it back, or to speak, watching her through darkened eyes. As he took a final, predatory step forward, another figure stepped into the light.

The two were clearly related; the younger having just entered. He was not exactly skinny, but he couldn't be called fat either. He was toned, from Quidditch Cassi was sure, as many men in the Wizarding World seemed obsessed with the sport, with broad shoulders that jutted out from the black suit he was wearing. It seemed he had the same fascination with Muggle clothes as his father (at least, that's who she assumed it was) had. His eyes, like those of a pigs, settled below her face, causing the young girl to shiver uncomfortably and attempt to push herself further back into the wall. That proved to be impossible, though, as the cold, harsh, unforgiving wall prevented her movement.

"Don't worry, Father," he murmured, one hand resting on the older mans left shoulder as he pushed him backwards slightly, moving further into the sparse light. "She'll be good as new once I'm done."

As the elder man left and the younger moved closer, Cassi almost expected a wand to be removed from his pocket and for unimaginable pain to be bestowed upon her. What happened, however, was so much worse, and would haunt her dreams for years to come.

"Don't struggle, it'll only make this much harder on you." His voice – so like his Fathers – had a lilting quality to it that made Cassi certain he'd be a phenomenal singer if he ever gave up on kidnapping fifteen-year-olds. But it was dark, a deep timbre to it that made his young prey shiver, a slight whimper falling from behind her tightly clamped lips.

He took another step forward, pulling Cassi up by her shoulders. Defying his words, she struggled, running to the other side of the cell. One of his hands caught her wrist, shoving her on her back on the floor, his breath rank on her face as he knelt above her. His free hand reached down to unbuckle his belt, chucking it to the other side of the tiny room.

And all Cassiopeia could do was whimper helplessly.

**XxX**

"So it wasn't Lily the New Order were after?" Dalton said. He had only been allowed into the meeting on the basis that he was Cassiopeia's boyfriend, and neither he nor Rose thought it prudent to mention that the relationship was only false. Draco was in the corner, one arm protectively around his weeping wife, eyes fixed on the young Gryffindor, a look of loathing on his features. Scorpius, Septimus and Abraxus were seating behind him, cool, grey eyes also fixed on Dalton, one of Abraxus' hands resting on his wand.

The only others who had been permitted into the meeting were Harry and Ginny Potter, Ron and Hermione Weasley, Kingsley Shaklebolt, Headmistress McGonagall, and the students who had figured out that Cassi was actually the one targeted.

"But why?"

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Hermione spoke the same words she had spoken just after the fall of Voldemort, when they had been trying to figure out why he would want Cassiopeia dead. At the confused looks she received from everyone but Ginny, she hurriedly added, "Well, who is close to both the Malfoy's and the Potters?"

"Cassi," Draco murmured, his voice turned to a quiet keening. "The old Death Eaters hate us because I changed sides in the war. It's all my fault." As Astoria began murmuring to him, the door burst open, a distinctly frazzled Lucius Malfoy entered, one hand clutching his wand, the other running frantically through his hair.

"Is it true?" His voice was low and demanding, and Harry was reminded with startling clarity why he'd been frightened of Malfoy throughout his younger years. The older man looked practically deranged, a furious tint to his face as he muttered feverishly about how if Cassiopeia had stayed in France, as he had wished, none of this would have happened.

"Father…" Draco trailed off as the eldest Malfoy whirled around furiously, one hand punching the wall, breathing heavily. "We're searching everywhere. We'll find her."

"And how do you propose to do that without a spy on the inside?"

Draco rose fluidly, one hand outstretched. Lucius met it, hands gripping tightly together, bonded by mutual worry. Two Malfoys united once more.

**XxX**

Cassiopeia sobbed, one hand resting on her stomach. Her clothes were ripped almost beyond repair, but she managed to scrape a few scraps together to keep herself dignified. The man, she still had to figure out his name, had left almost immediately, only his harsh cackle remaining in the cruel, heartless cavern. Her notebook had been left, a hint of blood sparkling on the faded pages.

Useless fingers scraped across the floor, one hand reaching towards the notebook whilst the other searched for something sharp on the filthy floor. Finally, a rusty nail, which must have fallen from the door, was revealed to her and, almost bursting with sudden excitement and new-found courage, she placed the nail to the dirty skin on her arms, ripping it across in a savage motion. Blood welled from the deep but small wound, to be collected roughly with the tip of the nail, which she then used to scratch a singular word on the yellowing parchment of her notebook.

_HELP_


	10. He's Back

**He's Back**

Ara Black now knew that she had been conned. She had guessed as much when Dethre had only smirked at her when she returned from Hogwarts. He hadn't even called her to his room, as he loved to do. And now? Now, she had heard her Mother talking to Antonio Parkinson and Dethre, along with the many other members of the New Order. She could imagine Bellatrix sitting with one hand behind her head, the other resting on her lips as she crossed her legs, the short skirt prompting more than one sneer from older men. Dethre would be jiggling his foot up and down, no doubt with withdrawal symptoms of some sort, and Antonio would be grimacing, clearly hoping to be anywhere but there.

They were talking Russian but, due to some crazy desire of her Father's (Lord Voldemort in case you missed the memo) she had been taught it, as well as Latvian, Italian and Chinese.

_"__Is the Prisoner secure?"_

She could just imagine the smirk on Dethre's face, the glimmer of desire in his eye, and she knew instantly what he'd done. Gripped with a sudden furiousness, it took all of her willpower not to rush in there and demand for Lily Potter (or whoever they had actually kidnapped) to be released.

_"__Of course."_

_"__The plan?"_

_"__To be put into effect."_

_"__And my daughter?"_

Ara couldn't stop her ears from perking up as she was mentioned, leaning closer to the doorway as though that would help her hear better.

_"__Soon to be terminated."_

She gasped but managed to hide it, listening with some degree of trepidation as they paused for a moment, muted footsteps heading towards the doorway…her hiding place. Lisa Turpin-Nott, who Ara remembered had been furiously in love with Draco Malfoy at school and probably still was, appeared in the doorway, eyes scanning to see any hint of the perpetrator.

Ara, who had pushed herself roughly in the side-alcove just before the door had opened, cowered, furious at herself for this display of innocence. Theodore Nott, a vivid hater of her cousin Draco (Bellatrix and Narcissa were sisters), pulled his wife backwards, one hand protectively over her swollen stomach, the other resting lightly on her hip. There was clearly no love lost between the middle-aged couple, but, from the reverent way he stared at his wife's stomach, Ara could tell that Theodore would do anything for his unborn child. The young Black actually had to wonder _how _exactly Lisa had gotten pregnant, as she was the same age as her cousin Draco and he already had four children, the youngest of which were fifteen.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Ara stole in the direction of the dungeon, where she was certain the Prisoner would have been kept. She saw the bright auburn locks through the cell door, matted with dirt and blood. She didn't actually recognise the girl huddled asleep in the far corner, but the pale-as-snow skin definitely marked her as a Malfoy and, therefore, related to Ara herself.

Crimson spread out from a mark on the creamy skin, the arm bathed in a rich glow. The wound appeared to be shallow, but deep, and Ara was certain that it hadn't stopped bleeding since it had been inflicted. One of her arms was placed almost protectively over her stomach, and the young Black could see another splash of crimson seeping through the ruined material of her school uniform. Bright auburn hair fluttered around her serene face in an invisible breeze, one strand coming to rest over her mouth, flickering up like a just-stared fire from each puff of air that filtered from the slightly agape mouth.

An attempt to open the door with magic failed, but Ara wasn't discouraged. Dethre and Antonio had always prided themselves on the meticulous planning of their dungeons, and the only person Ara knew, beside those two of course, who would be able to enter, was Pansy Parkinson herself. But Pansy had left her family many years before, disliking the harsh reality of the Dark Lord's order, but now that he was gone, maybe she'd have returned. Not to her family, of course, but to Smith Manor in the Hills. Ara had heard it said that Amelia Parkinson, the matriarch of the family, had left Pansy the house once she'd died, and neither Dethre nor Antonio could enter. And fortunately for her, Ara had been there before.

She pulled her wand out of her pocket, fiddling with it between her fingers for a moment, wondering if she should actually do what she was planning on, and then she left the dungeon, certain that if she attempted to aparate within the walls of Parkinson Manor, Antonio, or worse, Bellatrix, would be alerted as to her attempt. Therefore, she stealthily crept through the silent halls, surprised that no one had emerged to stop her. The words _'soon to be terminated' _echoed in her head and she found herself flinching at every little sound, skittering nervously around the corridors. Her long, ebony wand twirled in a complicated fashion as she emerged into the bright sunlight and, with a deep _'pop' _she apparated to Wales, glad that she didn't have to move much further, as her apparating skills didn't leave anything to be desired.

The door that rose before her didn't look remarkable in any way, and actually didn't really seem fit for a pureblooded Parkinson. But as Pansy's mother and grandmother had been from the House of Smith, Ara supposed that they were used to living in such small houses. A bell above the door rang sharply as she stepped onto the porch, magic seeming to fizzle and crack around her, keeping those with dangerous intent out.

A moment later it creaked open, a tiny, clean House Elf standing before her. Although it wasn't exactly closed, as many pureblooded families did not like Hermione Granger-Weasley's campaigns to free them, she was certainly tidy. He pinafore-like apron was cinched at the waist, falling down in waves to her wrinkled feet.

She bowed.

"How can Hokey help Miss Black?"

"I wish to see the Lady of the Manor." Ara spoke clearly, almost jiggling with excitement, but she held herself in check, only the slight bouncing of one hand showing her nervousness. Hokey didn't seem to notice any of that, and waved the young girl in, shutting the door with a loud burst of Elf-magic.

"Follow Hokey, Miss."

The corridor they entered was long and black, only candles in brackets along the walls spilling their dull light into it. It was also empty, which was surprising of Wizarding families, as they often tried to prove their wealth by keeping statutes or frames of old ancestors or other priceless trinkets in their Entrance Hall. Smith Manor held none of the former grandeur Ara was sure had been there before the Parkinson had taken over.

"Madam, Miss Black is here to see you."

The elderly House Elf bowed low, crinkled nose reaching the floor as she shuffled out, leaving Ara to make her curious way into the room. Unlike the Entrance Hall, this had evidence of former grandeur, not much of which remained. Pansy Parkinson, someone who was the same age as her cousin Draco, was seated by the roaring fireplace, dressed in a faded ivory dress that reached down to the floor and accented her trim waist and slim frame. It seemed like she was dressed for a party that had taken place thirty years ago. In her hand she held a still photo, one hand lightly pressed over the stiff face, the other holding a handkerchief up to her mouth.

As the door lightly closed behind Ara, the middle-aged Parkinson turned, eyes wide and red-rimmed. She smiled impishly, a glimmer of her former beauty coming into her countenance. "This place first belonged to my great grandmother, you know?" Ara nodded, sitting heavily down opposite the host. "Hephzibah Smith. In her day she was a fountain of youth, beautiful and elegant? Her husband died, you know? He died recently in fact. But The Dark Lord had her killed after she gave him a cup. Well, she didn't give it to him, he took it. Hokey was hers, did you know? She's quite old now and…"

Ara zoned out, staring at the clearly slightly loopy woman before her. It seemed that the death of people close to her and the war that had torn the Wizarding World apart had helped her to take leave of her senses, returning her to the blubbering mess that she had become.

Pansy had stopped speaking. With trembling hands she gave the picture to Ara, one of her hands lightly brushing the surface as she let go. A man was revealed to her. He was very handsome, even Ara could see that. One of his hands was held forward, as though holding something out to the person taking the picture, the other hand was safely tucked into his belt. He had a happy, carefree look on his tanned face, black hair tousled in an invisible breeze. And Pansy let out a dry sob, speaking in a voice that almost seemed sane.

"David Willow."

"A Muggle?" Ara asked, shocked. She had never thought that the prestigious Pansy Parkinson would know a Muggle. They had always seemed so far beneath those of Wizarding birth, those of a higher class.

"I loved him." Pansy was speaking once more. "He was everything to me. He could make me forget everything bad with just a word. I was no longer a follower of Voldemort, I was no longer a Witch, I was no longer cruel. I was just Pansy Parkinson, soon to be Pansy Willow. He asked me to marry him, you see? And he knew everything, about me, about the Dark Lord. About everything."

"What happened?" Ara murmured, almost afraid to ask. Pansy seemed so broken, so lost, so unsure. Ara was sure something awful must have happened.

"Death Eaters gatecrashed the wedding." Her voice had once again become whimsical, milky brown eyes staring unseeingly out of the window, as though she could see her lover standing on the porch in the rain, one hand tipping an umbrella protectively over his head. "They killed him."

"Is this dress...?" she trailed off, leaving the question unanswered and, to her own, quiet mind, unwilling. "I mean, I didn't mean to…" Her ramblings were cut off by a light, airy laugh which appeared to be coming from Pansy Parkinson herself.

"Yes, this was my wedding dress. I haven't taken it off since. It's been ten years, you know? Ten years since I saw my darling David. Sometimes I just wish I could end it all, but then Hokey reminds me of why I shouldn't." A slight sigh spilt from her lips as her eyes once more caught her young companions. "Nobody every comes just to talk to me anymore. What is it you wish me to do, my dear?"

"I need to know how to get into the Parkinson Manor basement. Someone of great importance is being held there but, obviously, I couldn't go to Dethre or Antonio about it."

"Yes," Pansy's voice had become a mere whisper, a slight smile playing about the corners of her lips. "I remember you now. You're Bellatrix's little slip of a girl. You must have been four or five when we last met." At Ara's nod, she added, "I will do all I can to help you." She clicked her fingers sharply, nodding once to Hokey as the small Elf apparated in, a loud _'crack' _heralding her arrival. "Give me ten minutes." Pansy's eyes were the clearest Ara had seen them since her arrival. It seemed that she was finally moving from the death of her fiancée and now had a new purpose in life. That, to Ara, was delightful.

**XxX**

Pansy was back dressed in a warm travelling cloak, which had been placed haphazardly over the faded ivory gown which she seemed too fond of to let go of. Ara didn't mention any of that, instead serving to open the door for the older woman and the elderly Elf, who, it appeared, would be needed in order to break the spell around the dungeons. Ara was certain Harry Potter would have some sort of rescue mission planned. Hogwarts was their first stop.

Pansy turned to her young accomplice and held out a gnarled hand, expecting Ara to take it with minimal fuss. Staring back at the dilapidated Manor behind her, the Black did so and felt herself being whisked away into the darkness. Back in her day, Pansy had been third in the class, only coming behind Hermione Granger and her former-beau Draco Malfoy and it seemed that she hadn't lost any of that talent, her wand swishing in perfect harmony as the two appeared in the silent street of Hogsmeade.

It looked much as Ara had expected it to back when her Father was still alive. Shops were boarded up on either side of the long, cobbled street. The Hogsmeade version of Weasley Wizard Wheezes, which had replaced Zonko's fifteen years previously, took up the pride of place at the far end of the road, the bright magenta building lighting up frivolously and demanding the attention of a fair few of the inhabitants. The Three Broomsticks had been closed down, the usually-lively pub reduced to burning embers, and Madame Honey, the Barmaid, had, according to anonymous sources, decided that working at the shady Hogs Head was much better than having no job at all.

Ara noticed the barely-repressed shiver her older companion made and found their hands entwining almost before she had realised it. The brief grin Pansy gave her calmed her down slightly and made it all the easier to stride up to Hogwarts massive, imposing gates and knock firmly upon them.

A slight thunder heralded the new arrival and, with a colossus _'creak' _it burst open, flinging backwards into the wall with a bang. A half-horse, half-human being stood before them, hands clasped firmly around a bow, which was pointed straight at them, arrow drawn.

"State your business or leave in peace."

Ara was slightly surprised at the Centaur guard, as there hadn't been one before and Centaurs tended to be very wary of humans (or, for that matter, anyone who wasn't a Centaur themselves).

"We have come to speak to Harry Potter. It is a matter of great emergency," Pansy articulated, to the surprise of her companion, who only stared on in shock. It was clear to any who came upon the scene that Pansy Parkinson had had dealings with Centaurs before. Her body was poised as though to run, but she spoke with no fear and only a slight detached interest.

The Centaur, who could later be depicted as Magorian, beckoned them forward disinterestedly, speaking rapidly and in a language Ara could neither understand nor make out. A moment later two more approached, eyes wary, bows drawn.

"Lynch, Davion, take them to the Wand Dweller but do not leave without the sign."

That Ara could understand, but it didn't mean that it made much sense. A small shrug in Pansy's direction later, and the two were led into the cold, imposing Castle.

**XxX**

Dethre Parkinson was stood with his back to his fellow New Order members, one hand cinched furiously on the windowsill, the other pressed into his pocket, moving a stray galleon around absently. He could hear his Father talking to Bellatrix, but not much of it was making sense. It actually seemed like they were talking about Ara, the little runaway, but Dethre was already certain of what he wanted to do with her. It would teach her to not even think about betraying him again.

"What do you think, son?" Antonio was calling for him, a deeply Fatherly look on his face, which surprised the younger man, as Antonio had never been one for that kind of thing. "About Ara Black. What shall we do with her."

A deep smirk crossed Dethre's lips as he outlined his plan but his eyes weren't on his Father, or even Bellatrix. Instead, they were fixed on the wall behind them, the words a mere drone. He longed to be back with Cassiopeia in the dungeons, teaching her lessons she'd never forget.

He sighed.

She probably wouldn't last out the night after his knife had slipped last time he'd been there, piercing the thin flesh and leaving her in daring agony as he slipped away once more, determined not to tell anyone of his slip.

**XxX**

Harry Potter stopped pacing as there was a knock as his temporary office door. The room was extremely messy, not having his wife's soft, caring touch to it, with papers strewn all over the desk, a cup of overturned coffee landing itself haphazardly on the floor, and on of the chair legs having been ripped of when he had stood in his fury. All that had happened before the pacing began, of course.

A wave of his wand set it right and he moved stealthily over to the door, all his Auror training coming back as he listened to the four breathing patterns outside. Two were Centaurs, that much could be told from the deep, slow, almost meticulous inhales. A third was quick and hurried, seeming to be petrified of something or someone. This person, as far as Harry could tell, must have been a young girl of about his Albus' age, or maybe a year older, new to the horrors of the World and most probably knowledgeable on the work of the New Order. The final breath was what worried him the most as it was unlike anything he had ever heard before. Instead of slow, meticulous breaths or quick, hurried ones, this one was uneven, alternating between frantic and calm. They appeared to be breathing in through their nose and out through their mouth, which was a very curious breathing pattern for anyone not wishing to calm themselves down, which this person didn't appear to be doing.

A thin hand was reaching out for the handle and, with a sharp tug, the door was flung open, startling three of the four arrivals. The final one just stared at him impassively before swanning into the room without leave. Harry nodded curiously to the two Centaurs, who had been kind enough to agree to watch the gate for Minerva, and beckoned the fourth girl in. This was someone he recognised.

Ara Black appeared skinnier than she had when she had last informed him of the New Orders intention as to kidnapping his daughter. Fatherly instinct had made him believe her then, but now he wasn't quite sure what to believe. Had she been working on Bellatrix's orders the whole time? Or had she merely been fooled as they had? Nonetheless, he welcomed her inside.

The other woman was someone he was not-quite-sad to say that he hadn't seen since his Hogwarts days. She seemed to have lost much weight since then and had a Luna-esque gleam in her eyes. Clearly some sort of horror had befallen Pansy Parkinson.

"We have information as to the whereabouts of one Cassiopeia Malfoy." Pansy was the one who'd spoken, her wedding dress puffing around her as she sat. Harry knew better than to ask why she was wearing such an item of clothing and only pulled out some Veritaserum that he kept for instances such as this. As he was hesitating to pour it into the glass of water he had conjured, Pansy murmured, "Go on. I want to make sure you believe me."

And so he did, and she drank it with no complaint.

"Name?"

"Pansy Parkinson."

"Family?"

"One brother, Dethre…One father, Antonio…One Mother, Annabeth (deceased)…One fiancée, David Willow (deceased)."

The final name wasn't a shock to Harry, as he had heard of the Death Eater Coup that had resulted in the Muggle fiancée of a Pureblooded Witch dying and the Witch herself vanishing without a trace. It seemed that the Witch had finally been returned.

"Purpose?"

"To inform Harry Potter of the location of Cassiopeia Malfoy."

"Location?"

"Parkinson Manor, West Yorkshire."

Harry nodded and, almost on demand, Pansy's eyes once more unclouded as she peered into her former classmates face. Ara, who had previously been standing behind her companion, now came forward, one hand reached out as though to take Harry's. But she dropped it soon, instead murmuring, "We can help you get there but only a member of the Parkinson household can have access to the dungeons. Therefore, we will need Pansy's help."

"You shall not be going." Harry's voice broke no argument and although Ara was reluctant to let it go without a fight, she could definitely see a trace of why her Father had been so scared of him as a boy. Harry Potter had an air about him, one of superiority and leadership she supposed, and she knew almost instantly that starting a fight with him would be pointless and fruitless. Pansy's reassuring hand on her arm may have something to do with it as well.

And so, as Harry Potter and Pansy Parkinson made their silent way to the Headmistress' rooms, where the rescue team was soon to be assembled, Ara strode down to the Hospital Wing, informing Madame Scamander in her most important voice of the worrisome events. The middle-aged Matron only nodded and went about her business and Ara could see a part of Pansy in her vacant gaze and calming expression. It made her feel slightly serener and almost as though a part of Pansy was still with her despite the certain doom that was soon to befall her.

The door slamming open prompted her gaze to it, a deep smile crossing her features' as she noticed the boy – no, man, she corrected herself with a bashful grin – hurrying towards her. One of her hands outstretched without her consent, but he took it, pulling her closer, arms entrapping her in the forgiving warmth.

"It was you I saw."

He murmured many things, not much of which was actually understandable to his younger companion, but he took no notice, only gripping her tighter as she attempted to wriggle away. A glance in the Matron's direction proved that she had disappeared into her Office, and there was no one else in the Hospital Wing who could have helped her escape from the prison-like cocoon.

"Dalton," she let out a laugh. "You're crushing me."

"Sorry, Arry," he beamed self-consciously, one hand reaching up to tug on his ear, a light blush dusting his cheeks. Ara found her grin widening at his childish nickname, but she made no mention of it and instead situated herself comfortably on one of the sterile beds littering the ward.

"Where's Croy? Last I heard he was going here, a Ravenclaw I believe? And Dani? Surely you've seen her since we last met, which was just before Father's demise, if I remember correctly. Oh, and…" She could barely seem to stop talking, Dalton's presence bringing out her normal insecurities. He just gave her a doting grin, one that made her heart beat faster and her face light up with joy, and they began to catch up on all they had missed since Voldemort had been vanquished.

**XxX**

_Two unidentifiable people, Harry was certain they were Parkinson's as they shared many features with Pansy, were sitting on an overturned barrow. The younger of the two, as they were clearly related, was toned but not in the same way as he had been at that age. He had a slightly pudgy air to him, as though he had been active but it was long ago now. His broad shoulders jutted out roughly from the midnight blue suit he was wearing, one that didn't exactly seem to fit in with the grassy, hilly surroundings. His beetling black eyes were fixed on something as of yet unseen to Harry, but from the cruel smirk curling his lips, it couldn't be anything good._

_The elder of the two, a man with greying hair that fell over his eyes and down to the tops of his shoulders and whose face was heavily lined despite still holding a grace only seen in Purebloods raised in the upper classes, was speaking is a voice that shone with a darkened, roughened timbre, one that shook the middle-aged Potter to his core. It was just so remarkably unfeeling._

_"__The plan has been put into motion."_

_Harry recognised that voice, the freezing drawl of a woman he had believed, and hoped, to be dead. She skipped in the clearing from the direction both men had been staring, one of her hands wrapped around the squirming bundle she was dragging along. Unlike the others, her face was covered, but Harry (and most likely the rest of the reformed Order of the Phoenix) would be able to tell who she was from a mile away, from the wildly crazy black hair and deep ember-like eyes that glinted through the silver mask._

_The bundle let out a yelp as she was shoved to the ground, the hood, which had before hidden her face, falling off, and Harry had to gasp. Even though she had been beaten up almost beyond recognition, her face a mass of blue, purple and yellow, she could still be recognised as Cassiopeia, the youngest Malfoy daughter._

_"__I thought we weren't going to do this," another masked face entered, the one Harry didn't recognise, followed by many more, all of whom sported the silver and black face masks. "I thought it was just to shut the Potter's up and to get Malfoy back for what he did. This could kill her."_

_"__Showing some remorse, are you?" Harry asked, but it wasn't his voice that spoke. Instead, it was a cold, high voice, one that Harry recognised with a thrill of unexpected fear. Bellatrix had immediately dropped to the ground, one of her hands outstretched, the other holding a wand at Cassiopeia's throat._

_"__My Lord," her voice was raspy with reverence, "I did not notice you there. Of course Nott isn't showing remorse," she shot a glare in 'Nott's' direction, clearly warning him to stay silent. "Now, the plan…"_

_But she was cut off, "Move, Bella, I wish to see our prisoner."_

_And Bellatrix did, shuffling backwards on her hands and knees to show the young Malfoy to Harry's harsh, cold glare. He was speaking again unbidden, "Ah yes, a beautiful little thing, aren't you, dear?" She only glowered at him. "I suppose you've had a taste of her, Dethre." His head swiveled in the direction of the youngest Parkinson, who nodded eagerly but didn't say anything, eyeing the young girl hungrily. "Well, I'm sure she'll taste even more sweet once we're done with her."_

_Harry felt bile rise in his throat at the thought of what they had done to her. How could anyone do that to a mere fifteen year old? She hadn't even come of age yet._

_He was speaking once more, "I believe we are ready."_

_"__No, please…"_

_At first Harry wasn't sure where the pleading came from, but then Cassiopeia gave a sudden lurch away, still mumbling under her breath, the words breathy and terrified._

And then he was back, his eyes flickering open. He was in the Headmistress' office, lying on his back, one of his wife's hands encased in his. Ron was speaking.

"Could you lead us there, if we so wished," Ron asked coldly, a glimpse of the hardened warrior appearing in his sallow cheeks and furious glower. Pansy almost cowered before him, one spindly hand reaching over to smooth the top of her dress, the other curling into a trembling fist. Hermione grabbed it, shooting her husband an irritated look.

Stop, Ronald, can't you tell she's terrified."

"It's not terror so much as denial," Ginny murmured from her position beside Hermione. "You don't want to go back, do you?"

"She has to, my daughter is there," Draco snarled from his position next to his wife, pale face paling further at the thought of harm coming to his youngest.

As Pansy shook her head, Harry sighed furiously. "Well, we can't exactly make her, can we?"

The others whirled in his direction, Ginny beaming happily and even Ron looking slightly relieved. No one spoke for a moment, all eyes on Harry's pale face, and then Hermione spoke.

"What did you see?"

"He's back."


	11. Betrayal

**Betrayal**

James was pacing the Gryffindor Common Room, frowning, his hands wringing agitatedly in front of him. Fred and Roxanne were opposite him, George having run off somewhere with Albus half an hour before. Roxanne was reclined by the fire, one of her hands over her eyes, the other resting comfortably in her lap. Fred, on the other hand, was watching his best friend with apparent interest, a smirk lighting up his face.

"Oh sit down," Roxanne finally muttered, pulling herself up, "You're making me dizzy just looking at you."

"But what if she's not okay?"

The other two exchanged amused and confused glances, having never seen this side of James before. The eldest Potter child hadn't even noticed the look, having continued his pacing in earnest.

"What if she dies? Oh, God, what if she dies?" His voice had become a mere whimper as he collapsed opposite the twins, almost sobbing in his grief.

"She'll be fine, Jamie," Lily Luna murmured, coming over to him with Rose and sitting beside her clearly distraught brother. "This is Cassiopeia Malfoy we're talking about. She's going to be _fine."_

James could only nod, hoping beyond hope that she was right and not merely saying that to make him feel better.

**XxX**

Bellatrix smirked cruelly as she face her Lord. This plan had been in motion for years, long before Cassiopeia had even been born, but, after the successful kidnapping, this had seemed like the perfect opportunity to attempt it. And if she died, well, it was one less Blood Traitor in the world.

The Dark Lord stood fluidly before them, one hand resting on a still Malfoy's cheek. She had been knocked into a state near unconsciousness a few minutes earlier, and now, finally, their plan was to be put into effect.

First, the powdered moonstone was added to the bubbling cauldron in the centre of the darkened clearing, and then a bit of each of the four elements (earth, air, water and fire) were also placed delicately in. As the vaguely shimmering purple solid was sprinkled in, Dethre Parkinson rose and made his way towards it, gripping a large stick with both hands and stirring roughly. The boiling water and moonstone frothed ferociously as it was poured out and towards the unconscious Malfoy. Nothing had prepared the former Death Eaters for what would happen next.

A agony-filled scream rent the formerly silent air and Cassiopeia began to shimmer, mouth open in a now-silent howl, head swiveling from side-to-side as she seemed to attempt to dislodge the pain now filled her chest. A bright purple light, like that of the moonstone, tore from her chest, hitting the surrounding air with a blaze that nearly blinded her companions. And then she began to rise.

Still twisting and swirling in the air, her body contorting with the shapes surrounding her, a bright of burnt light flew from her palm to flicker at the air, a body of water from the distorted mass doused the flames with a deep _'hiss', _the air around her became shimmery and almost opaque and, finally, the ground beneath her began to bubble, distorting much like the figure above was. A deep green section rose up, connected to the rest of the ground by a thread, to form a crib hanging almost in mid air, a crib that the now silent girl was gently lowered onto.

She seemed the same, normal but stunningly beautiful girl that she had been before, except now she had a set of brilliantly white wings attached to her back. As the enraptured crowd watched, they slowly disappeared, vanishing into her smooth back. And then her eyes opened.

Instead of the innocent, forget-me-not blue they had been before, they now held pupils of a stunning violet, the exact same colour as the fiercely powdered moonstone. They were stunningly beautiful and yet scary at the same time.

"Cassiopeia," Bellatrix had moved to her side, one of her hands reaching out to the dazed youth, but she yelped and jumped back, one of her hands reaching up to protect her face.

"Where am I?"

Bella frowned, her unusually beautiful face scrunching up, one hand reaching up to tangle in her wild curls. She didn't look confused. No, far from it. Instead, she merely looked annoyed, like it was Malfoy's fault she didn't know where she was. Although, of course, in Bellatrix Lestrange's mind, it _was _her fault, despite the fact that she couldn't have done anything to change it.

Cassi glowered, a tiny whimper falling from her tightly clamped lips as she took in the slight smirk curling the Dark Lord's shadowy face, nose-less face gleeful, one hand twirling a wand around his fingers.

"Bella," his voice was cold and high, something the like of which the young Malfoy had never heard before. Her eyebrows scrunched up, her face puffing out like a chipmunk's, but nobody laughed. Nobody even noticed. Instead, all attention was fixed on their Lord, who was instructing Bellatrix in her duties with a superior air about him.

"What's wrong with me?" Cassiopeia's voice was quiet, an unnoticeably tremble to it, eyes glassy but no tears shed. One of her hands had been pressed to her mouth as a sob tried to force its way out, and the other rested comfortably in her lap, clenched tightly as a jolt of fear shot through her. "What did you do to me?"

"Did it work?" Bellatrix had begun to move, one of her hands gliding over the young Malfoy's back, where the slight impression of the gloriously white wings laid. At her feather-light touch, a deep tremble shot through the younger girls body, and the wings materialized roughly, shying away from the definition of evil that was staring at them with an expression of undeniable greed on her deranged face.

Apparently, her question had been answered as Bella moved away from her prey, dancing around The Dark Lord with a bright, merry cackle, unidentifiable words spilling from her lips. Her hands rose above her head, swishing as though she was dispelling Nargles (Cassi had heard Lorcan and Lysander conversing with their Mother about them one day during the summer) while her feet tapped a rhythm that only she knew.

Ignoring his most devoted follower, Voldemort turned to Cassi, reaching out to stroke her cheek almost caringly, fingernails lightly scratching at the pale flesh. "So beautiful." His voice was a mere sigh on the wind, a soft hush falling over the clearing.

Cassi cleared her throat, drawing on some of her non-existent Gryffindor courage as she yanked her head back, away from Voldemort. "You're not even here." He jerked back in surprise, but she hadn't finished. "You're a mere scepter of what you once were. I've heard the stories of Harry Potter using the Stone on what he deemed to be his last night on Earth. It brought his parents back, didn't it? But they weren't really back, were they? They couldn't do anything much, except offer support." She drew breath, eyes fixed unwavering on her companion. When he didn't speak, she continued. "Bellatrix Lestrange was your biggest follower, wasn't she?" A derisive snort fell from her clamped lips. "The Stone would bring you back just as it did Lily and James Potter, but you're not really here, and nothing will ever bring you back."

"Take her away," he snarled, teeth pulled over thin, blood-less lips, crimson eyes wide and angry, fists clenched. "Do what you must with her."

And with one last cry of pain, Cassiopeia Malfoy was dragged back to Parkinson Manor, Dethre entering the cell after her, to do with her as he wished.

**XxX**

"What do you mean 'he's back'?" Ron snapped furiously, beginning to pace the room as Harry wished he could also do. However, with his legs feeling like jelly, he wasn't much able to move; Ginny made sure of that. Hermione was frowning slightly, the gears in her genius mind clearly at work, but so far, to the people who knew her best, she was coming up with nothing. Harry was only glad that James had not heard his pronouncement, as that would surely mean a reckless saving attempt on his sons part, which would probably end up with not only James, but also Cassi, dead.

Harry recounted the vision, eyes squeezed tight as he recalled the feeling of depression, loneliness and fear that had pervaded his senses when he had entered Voldemort's mind.

At the culmination of his words, silence greeted him, and, upon opening his eyes with some degree of trepidation, he noticed Ron was sitting once more, hand clasped around his wife's, who had gone stark white, worry for Cassiopeia showing clearly in the cinnamon gaze. Ginny's hand had clamped around his, sapphire eyes boring into his own. Pansy had her knees drawn up to her chest, her chin resting comfortably on top, her eyes closed. The Malfoy's were quiet, both looking to be on the verge of tears, an expression that Harry had never seen, nor ever wanted to see, on Draco Malfoy's face.

"He'll kill her," Astoria Malfoy murmured, one of her hands clutching at her husband's for support, "He'll kill my baby. And we've just got her back." Draco rested his hand over hers but said nothing, face grave and cold, eyes peering pleadingly back at Harry. But it was Pansy who spoke.

"I'll do it. They won't move Headquarters and I'm sure she'll still be kept in the dungeons; they won't want to risk escape." She was sitting now, feet planted firmly on the ground, elbows resting on top, hands clasped in front of her mouth. Her words were muffled as she spoke. "If we leave soon, we'll be in and out before they even realise we're there."

Harry nodded.

"Tonight."

**XxX**

_He was back, one of his hands on top of hers, a knife to her throat, digging into the soft flesh. He was whispering in her ear soft words of warning, holding her trembling body tightly, metal digging in further._

_It took all of her efforts to push him away, but that only incensed the older, stronger man, who was back upon her in a second, the knife making impact with some part of the left side of her body._

_Unimaginable agony! White, hot needles, digging pins and iron-hot coals, darkness threatening to take over, panic, one hand reaching down but coming away drenched in lukewarm crimson, morbid fascination, tongue reaching out to taste the liquid._

_Pain!_

**XxX**

_They were ready._

Many would assume this meant _'having assembled all their troops, they were ready to march'_, but that was far from the case. Instead, many Witches and Wizards from surrounding areas had been Flooing into the Headmistresses Office all day, clogging up the Network. Many had taken refuge in The Hogs Head, which was currently under the command of Ariana Dumbledore, the daughter of the late Aberforth Dumbledore and named in tribute of his dead sister.

A drum beat had started up somewhere, the heavy pounding permeating the thick, uneasy air, the darkened thump balancing on the thick fog that had descended from the Highlands. The only sound bar the beating drums was the quick murmur of worry; a low, whimpering sound that broke through the barriers surrounding the ancient school.

Harry Potter stood on top of the Astronomy Tower, his ears echoing with the screams of all those that had died on this very spot during the Second Wizarding War. Albus Dumbledore's still, lifeless face floated in front of his consciousness, arms flailing in an effort to right himself from the tumbling pit that had befallen him.

But he had been too late.

Harry heard his eldest son before he saw him; the slightly shuffling gate signified his worry and the depression that threatened his welfare every day. And Harry turned; taking in the black shadows under his dazzling, emerald eyes, the hair that seemed even more rumpled than was significant for a member of the Potter family, the anxiety that crumpled the lively forehead.

"Will it ever end?"

James joined him, hands clasping at the rails in front of him, rails that had been put into effect after the dreadful night on this tower in Harry's sixth year. James sighed, not expecting an answer to the fated question, but he still hoped for one. Harry, along with his two best friends, had spent a year fighting evil, only to have the same burden lurk above them once more. And James wasn't sure he could handle the pressure.

"Will it ever truly be over?"

Harry turned his head to one side, eyes of the exact same shade clashing under the waning sun, identical expressions in both faces. James was scared, something Harry had only seen on his son's face once before, when he'd been forced to stay behind as Voldemort made his Last Stand. Then, James had been forced to take care of those too young to fight. Now, he was determined to help the girl had knew needed his dedication, someone he'd wronged in the past, someone he was now able to admit he was in love with.

"The only thing we have to fear is fear itself," Harry quoted the famous Muggle saying, a look of profound sadness bleeding into his ageing features. "It can't be over until every last man, woman or child who stands in our way is destroyed. And we cannot do that. There will always be men waiting to fill the boots of the fallen, women ready to take in homeless strangers no matter the pain they have caused to others, and children who follow those in front of them, all working to bring down the society we have tried so hard to build." Harry sighed, unsure of exactly how to convince his son. "But no matter what happens next, remember that we have faith and love on our side, things that they can _never _take from us." James nodded as a shout sounded from below. "It is starting."

James paused as his Father left; taking in the beautiful scenery surrounding the place he called his _home away from home._ The all-consuming terror that had engulfed him in the wake of Cassiopeia's kidnapping had increased within him, to the point where he even kept his notebook with him at all times, hoping beyond hope for some sort of sign from his missing love. The only word he had received so far had been _'HELP', _written in her familiar, cursive language and in a deep, crimson red that look suspiciously like blood. At his first glimpse of the words, he had rushed immediately to Harry, pleading for some sort of assistance for the missing girl. However, Harry had only shaken his head indulgently and murmured that she could look after herself. James still wasn't sure.

"James?" Fred was standing in the doorway, staring at him. "Uncle Harry said that if you're not down within the next five minutes, they're leaving without you." He laughed softly. "Aunt Ginny seemed extremely happy with that suggestion."

James nodded, staring at his cousin in silence for a moment, words on the tip of his tongue, but they failed him. Instead, he merely moved past him, heart pounding in his chest, fingers gripping his wand at the ready.

_They were ready._

**XxX**

Cassiopeia gasped as she awoke, a fierce pain filling her side. She attempted to stir, feeling the harsh stone of the floor grating against the new addition to her back. She could feel something sticky falling freely down her side despite the wad of torn t-shirt that she had used to attempt to stop the flow. One of her hands moved up to her face, attempting to rub away the headache that was brewing below the surface, and even in her half-unconscious state she could see the paleness of her flesh. A flash of crimson caught her eye and a slight whimper jolted her as she shifted uncomfortably on the unforgiving ground.

"Ah, Cassiopeia," Dethre – she had figured out his name after weeks of imprisonment – was once again at the door. He came back every Friday, of that she was sure, but, as she was unsure of when exactly Friday was, she was uncertain of whether he came between that time as well. "Unfortunately, I am sure you will not survive the night. It is such a shame that someone as beautiful and delicate as yourself be reduced to such a death." He crept forward, thick boots colliding roughly with the unsympathetic stone floor. His eyes caught hers, trapping her in the fierce gaze. "And, of course, since you won't survive the night, I'm sure you would just love to know who betrayed you? Come in, my dear, don't be shy."

A timid figure stepped in, straightening as she faced Dethre, one of her hands entwined with his. Cassiopeia could only gape.


	12. Fight

**Fight**

"Elsa?"

And, indeed it was. Elsa Driana, fifth year Slytherin and supposedly good friend of Cassi's, was staring back at her, remorse in the pale eyes.

"Dethre," the shout came from outside, punctuated with a fierce war cry. Dethre Parkinson's eyes flitted to the doorway for a moment before turning back to Cassiopeia, a vicious glower on his youthful face. A sly smirk curled the corners of his thin lips. "I'm so sorry I couldn't give you time to say goodbye to your friends. Come, Elsa." With that last word, his rushed from the room, the door slamming behind him, shaking the room with a severe _'bang'. _Cassiopeia sighed, one hand fisting in the material at her waist, attempting to keep in the crimson flow of blood regardless of her success. A deep sob tore from deep within her throat as she heard the screams and cries from above. Cowering against the wall; her face was pressed into her knees when the big, oak door once more fell open.

James gasped with relief upon seeing the slight movement of her body. For one terrible, heart-stopping moment, he had thought she had left him once and for all, but now it felt like a great weight had been lifted off his chest. She was alive. And then she moved, eyes flickering open blearily, fixing almost hungrily upon his. He forgot about Pansy Parkinson, who had given him admittance into the cell. He even forgot about George, Fred and Roxanne, who had followed him, and his Father, who, he knew, would have a sharp, knowing smirk on his ageing face. James only saw her, face scrunched up in pain and longing, and he rushed towards her, cradling her in his Quidditch-toned arms.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"It's not…"

"I'm sorry."

"James." Her gasped shout drew his attention away from his apologies, which had been delivered into the crook of her neck as he spoke, his voice raspy and pain-filled. The youngest Malfoy child gently placed her fingers under his chin, moving his head up until brown clashed with blue. James wasn't quite sure what to do. He knew what he _wanted _to do, but that was just a matter of question. It was almost certain that she didn't feel the same way he did.

"Once you two are done," George II had a smirk on his face as he stared at them, the twins standing slightly behind them, both faces alive with mirth. Harry, his own Father, seemed to be attempting to keep his laughter off his face, but he wasn't much succeeding. And Pansy Parkinson, who had still refused to change out of her wedding dress, was beckoning roughly, her focus on the passageway outside of Cassiopeia's cell. "You may want to make your leave while the rest of us wrap up here."

James helped her to stand, one hand protectively around her waist, but her pained gasp drew his attention sharply to her. Her tiny hands were pressed to her abdomen; eyes heavily lidded and half-closed. A deep splash of crimson assaulted his vision as she collapsed, almost in slow motion, and he reached out instinctively to catch her, sagging under the slight weight.

Harry beckoned for them to leave and, with one deep breath, James rushed from the property and dissaparated, cursing the wards that had been put up the prevent apparition.

**XxX**

Ara Black wasn't just going to wait in silence, confined to the Hospital Wing, for them to get back with the kidnapped Malfoy. And Dalton agreed with her. She would have felt slightly annoyed at his clear affection for the Malfoy girl, if she hadn't seen the way James Potter spoke about her, the clear affection showing in his chocolate eyes. And, if she was honest with herself, she liked Dalton as much more than a friend.

"Hello."

The Hospital Wing door had been thrust open, two people standing in the doorway. The first, a tall, gangly Ravenclaw who almost demanded attention, was the first to move, striding confidently into the light drifting in from the high ceilings. His slightly freckled face made him seem like a Weasley, but he was far from them in countenance. His eyes, a cold, stone blue, seemed to burn into the two opposition him, not even fading as his mouth moved into a smirk. The girl who entered with him was the exact opposite. She was mocha-skinned, with long, flowing cinnamon locks that complimented her russet eyes perfectly. Instead of being perfectly composed, as her companion had been, she threw herself across the room and into Ara's arms, the two girls squealing happily.

Daniela Zabini, the twin sister of Alessandra Zabini and elder sister of Adriana Zabini, immediately began chattering in fluid Italian, something Ara had known for years but Dalton had never quite caught the gist of. He could only tell that it had something to do with Bellissimi Cavalli, the Italian school she had been attending. Croydon Young, the last member of their quartet, fell onto the bed beside Dalton, one of his hands scratching at his forehead while the other pushed a pair of large, square-framed glasses onto his face.

"Are we really going to stay here when we could be doing something constructive?" Dani asked eventually, reverting back to English for Dalton's sake, while her hand reached out for Croydon's. Nobody was surprised to see the two of them together, and Dalton was only glad that the awkward, pre-dating stage had come and gone. That had been awful for everyone.

"Let's go," Ara reached over to pull him up while Dani did the same for their other male friend, both girls nearly squealing with an excitement that Dalton wasn't quite sure they should be feeling. Ara flicked a strand of black hair over her shoulder and he watched with morbid fascination as it came to rest half way down her smooth black, not making even a blemish on the creamy skin. Her eyes, which would seem dark and sinister to those who did not know her, only seemed knowing to him, almost as if they were smirking. And her long, milky legs demanded his attention as she walked away from him, hips swinging in a way that would make almost every other girl jealous. Dalton couldn't even feel guilty for staring at his long-time friend whilst dating another, as all thoughts of Rose or the mess she'd gotten him into with James Potter was vanished from his mind at the first sight of her laughing face.

"Dalton?" Her voice was back, soft and sure. "Are you okay?" One of her hands cupped his face, the other resting on his firm chest, moving the fabric of his Muggle t-shirt gently between the calloused soles. A feather-light brush was all he felt as her lips reached his, teasing and scolding tenderly. His eyes flickered up to hers, dark iris' colliding, and then she was back, her hands moving rapidly through his brown locks while his came to rest on her curvy waist.

"Wow."

He hated how breathless he sounded, how innocent and untouchable one glance from her could make him. And, yes, he was aware that he sounded like a sap, unsure of himself and fragile, but he couldn't bring himself to care. The only guilt he felt was at the possibility of Rose's reaction. He was certain she would be happy for him, glad that he had found someone, but for all he knew she might be furious, vexed that he had kissed someone else whilst still being in a fake-relationship with him.

"Let's keep this quiet until you and the Malfoy girl have broken it off." Her expression brooked no argument. He _would _break it off with Cassiopeia, or risk losing Ara. Of course, Ara had no idea of the exact nature of his relationship with, as she put it, _'the Malfoy girl', _but Dalton was sure she wouldn't care. As long as the two of them could be together at the end of it all, she wouldn't care about much else.

"Sure." He didn't mind telling this slight fib, as Cassi and he technically weren't dating, but he was slightly shocked at the ruthless nature of Ara's words. Then again, if she had gone to Hogwarts, she was sure to be a Slytherin, as they were all ruthless and stuff. Cassi was the exact same way.

What was it with him and Slytherins?

"Are you two done?"

They turned to see Daniela and Croydon staring at them with identical, happy grins on their faces. Dani, the Hufflepuff she was sure to be (had she been to Hogwarts, of course) giggled merrily as she dragged Ara out, the latter rolling her eyes indulgently. And Croydon, like a good little Ravenclaw, started spouting off facts about the likelihood of them staying together. In his eyes, it seemed to be a long time, which relieved Dalton.

"We'll meet you there," Dani called to the two boys, apparating away with Ara in tow. Rolling his eyes, Dalton followed, with Croydon bringing up the rear. And then they were there. The house – Mansion – rose before them, tall turrets gleaming white against the setting sun. The gardens, which sprawled around the vast Estate, now mainly held wilting flower and yellowing grass. There was a fire burning in one of the upstairs bedrooms, flickering and grinning ominously in the lazy breeze. One of the turrets had been blown clean off, allowing the inside to finally reach the sky.

All in all, it looked war-torn.

As the four teens moved closer, a figure could be seen rushing towards them, another figure in his arms. James Sirius Potter glanced at them once, pausing only long enough to throw Dalton a scathing glare, and then he was gone, vanishing with a soft _'pop' _into the darkness. A scream of pain jolted them, and Ara took off running, clearly understanding the garbled words coming towards them.

When the other three had reached her, she was on the ground, knees squelching in the wet grass, a woman's head in her lap. Dalton recognised the dark, brooding features and thin countenance even if he had never met her before. Ara wasn't yet crying, but the red, puffy nature of her eyes made it seem that sobbing wasn't far off.

"Don't cry, darling." Her voice was soft and weak, but had the desired effect. A watery smile flickered across Ara's face, a weak chuckle following, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by a sad frown. "Give this to Harry Potter." Ara nodded silently as a yellowing piece of parchment was thrust into her hands. A traitorous tear slipped from her eye to plop down softly on Pansy's cheek, running down into her hair line. The wispy, brown hair that Dalton was sure had been lustrous and thick in her day, the age of their parents, was flying around her head in a non-existent breeze, giving her a look like Medusa; a crazed yet strikingly innocent look.

"You can't make positive choices for the rest of your life without an environment that makes those choices easy, natural and enjoyable _(Deepak Chopra)." _One of Pansy's frail hands reached out to pull Dalton down towards her, entwining his fingers with Ara's on the ground. "Keep those who love you close, Ara, and remember that family is not everything." And her eyes closed, slowly, almost as if she was fighting to keep them awake. Ara's head bowed, dry sobs heaving from her chest. Dalton nodded to Dani and Croydon, who turned and disappeared into the seemingly abandoned Manor, before turning his attention once more to the girl he'd been in love with for three years.

"Ara," his voice came out soft, unsure. "Ara, we need to leave her. You need to give that to Mr. Potter before we do much else." Still, she did not move from the ground, instead throwing herself over the corpse. Crimson liquid burned into her thick cloak, but she didn't care. It hurt, it hurt so much that someone she had just began to see as a Mother figure and mentor, such as her own Mother could never be, was now gone, never to come back. Dalton gave up on convincing her to leave, and instead put his arms around her, pulling her soft, pliable body into his while he placed light kisses on the top of her head, murmuring soothing words the whole time.

"She's really gone." The low gasp drew his attention and he nodded, not trusting himself to speak, as she collapsed into loud, heartbreaking cries once more. And Dalton was certain, no matter what, that he wouldn't mind comforting her for the rest of their lives.

**XxX**

Harry Potter searched through the Manor, body tingling from the adrenaline of once more being in the fight. This was what he craved, what he had always loved. He had seen James, someone he knew Ginny disapproved of being there, barely ten minutes before, rushing from Parkinson Manor with his arms around the skinny body that held someone he was sure most of them wished was his girlfriend. Pansy had followed them, her quick movements and wand skills deadly to any who stood in his way, and Harry had noticed her exchange small pleasantries with Draco, who looked utterly relieved, before moving on her way. Hermione and Ginny were fighting Gregory Goyle and Theodore Nott, whose pregnant wife had been found cowering in a room upstairs, calling for help. Her story was that she had been kidnapped and forced to bear a child against her will. Astoria, who'd found her, had been less than amused.

Lucius Malfoy almost danced past him, wand twirling around in his tightly clamped fist. Harry was almost certain he had no clue that his granddaughter was still alive. A figure, darkened with a thick, black cloak, moved behind him, wand raised against the unsuspecting figure. A gasp fell from the elder Malfoy's lips as blood seeped through the clasp on his cloak, his shoulder dropping from the pain. Harry was at his side in an instant, wand slicing out against the opponent in a thick ark that felled him in an instant. Without even staring at the man who had once been his nemesis, Harry spoke.

"You should go back to Hogwarts and get that checked out. Cassiopeia is already there." And then he turned. "She's still alive." And he was back in the action once more, fighting side by side with his beloved wife.

And then he saw him.

The ghostly figure seemed to sweep down from the heavens, causing all those around them to freeze. His hand held a wand, but he couldn't use it, and his piercing red eyes surveyed all those around him, until they rested on Harry.

Lord Voldemort.

Bellatrix Lestrange, to Harry's left, cackled insanely as she twisted something around her fingers, the black stone glinting in the softening light. Her dark, crazy hair flew behind her as she moved, and then she stopped abruptly as a bright jet of emerald green light flew into her back. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as she collapsed, the heavy robes billowing out against her still figure.

Lucius Malfoy, who, it appeared, hadn't left as Harry had ordered, picked up the stone, eyes piercing it with startling clarity. Voldemort let out a piercing shriek, hands outstretched towards the elder Malfoy, but he couldn't touch him. And Lucius turned the stone in his fingers, one, two, three times.

With a loud _'pop', _the man who had terrorized the Wizarding World for so long vanished, and they were at peace once more.

Lucius turned to Harry. "The Resurrection Stone." Harry nodded, taking it in numb fingers as the blond disaparating, vanishing on the air.

They were free.

**XxX**

Albus Severus Potter glanced around nervously, his eyes fixed on the Manor before him. His cousin, Rose, and family friends, Lorcan and Lysander Scamander were standing either side of his, each lost in their own thoughts. Completing the little group were their older cousins, Molly, Lucy and Dylianna, Terrence Higgs, Damien Snape and Alessandra Zabini, twin sister of Daniela Zabini, who was standing a few feet away, staring at them in shock.

"Lessa?" Her voice had gone stone cold and hard as she stalked her way forward, the boy, Albus recognised him as a sixth year Ravenclaw, attempting to drag her back. The two Italian's glowered at each other for a moment before Daniela shook her head furiously, eyes rolling. "Dad's going to _kill _you. How did you even get from Bellissimi Cavalli anyway? It's not like Signorina Abbatelli would just let you leave."

A light dusting joined Alessandra's dark cheeks, a small frown creasing between her eyebrows as she sheepishly murmured, "I may have followed you." At Daniela's furious glare she added hurriedly, "I took the Floo, though, not Portkey like you did. Daniela – although meeker and softer – was the older of the two, and, therefore, the unmistakable leader. Alessandra, on the other hand, was shorter and rounder, but definitely the louder twin. Therefore, it shocked everyone who'd actually met her before (which was most of them as Blaise Zabini was a good friend of Draco Malfoy's and had, therefore, been to many parties the Potter / Weasley / Scamander's and whoever else, had been invited to) that she seemed to wilt under the furious gaze of her twin.

"You should get back to Hogwarts before one of you gets hurt…and before Adriana finds out." Daniela dismissed them with a small frown, turning her back on them as she made to join the groups of men and women still entering the Manor. Croydon gave them one last glance before joining her. However, Lessa's voice stopped them all.

"We shall not be going." Her deep, Italian accent had a thick twang to it as she stalked closer to her sister. "And Adriana's never had a flair for fighting. She's back at Hogwarts helping Madame Scamander with all the injured fighters." Without another word, the sixth year marched forward, clearly expecting the others to follow her. Daniela let out a growl of complain but had no more to say on the matter.

Albus had found himself utterly amused by the conversation the twins had been involved in, but soon found himself alone as the others entered the Manor. A cry from one side caused his head to fly in that direction, and he gave only a small jerk to alert the others, but none noticed. Shaking his head slightly and gripping his wand tightly in a trembling fist (there was a reason he was in Slytherin, after all) he crept forward.

A low whimpering drew his attention to the girl on the ground. Her hair was stained a dark red though before it had been a light blond of some sort. Her emerald eyes, so like his own, seemed to pierce his own, although hers were clouded with pain and suffering. She couldn't have been older than fourteen, which led to the question of why she was there in the first place, but Albus decided that was probably the least of his worries, as, technically, he shouldn't have been there, either.

A low growl sounded to one side, and the girl whimpered again, her eyes wide, soundless noises passing from between her heavily clamped lips. Albus' head turned away from the injured child for a moment, squinting in the darkness. The brightness of the full moon, which had risen barely ten minutes earlier, shone down upon the creature standing before him, one he'd never had the misfortune of seeing before. His hand shook as his wand was pointed forward, a look of fear catching onto his handsome face.

And, then, the Werewolf pounced.

A piercing pain gripped his shoulder and he barely had the time to shout out a spell, before everything went dark. The screams of the girl echoed in his head even as his world faded to black.

**XxX**

Dethre Parkinson allowed a glower to seep into his features as he stared down at the still figure in front of him. He'd seen Ara disappear moments ago with a _boy _he didn't recognise, one of his arms around her back, the other clutching at her hand. No jealousy had hit him; only a sharp sense of loss, followed by unimaginable anger. _How dare she think that he would just let her leave?_

He'd been about the follow her, to end what miserable existence she had after killing Dalton Grey, he'd recognised him from when Ara was young, and making her watch. However, he then saw the still figure still draped in her ivory wedding dress, a crimson cloak completing the picture. He remembered the day she had denounced them, the last time he had seen her alive. It had actually been her wedding day, a day that Dethre was sure he would have looked forward to, if not for the filth she had deigned to marry, someone so beneath her in every way.

_Dethre held his wand close to his body underneath the thick, black cloak he had chosen to wear for the occasion. His Mother was inside, her bright laugh filling up the whole venue. She had died a mere ten months after the failure of a wedding, killed whilst trying to protect her husband from Harry Potter's wrath. He could hear Pansy singing in that raw, crisp voice he had come to love so much, and for once felt a twinge of guilt sting his heart. But it was gone in an instant as Antonio, his Father, placed a steady hand on his shoulder. Bellatrix, from his right, was practically foaming at the mouth, a wicked gleam coating her features. Dethre knew she planned to wed him to Ara as soon as she was old enough, and despite his distaste in the idea of marriage, he couldn't refute the fact that Ara was stunningly beautiful._

_Fenrir Greyback, the Werewolf, stood on his other side, claws that he claimed passed for hands digging into the calloused palms on his hands. His pupil-less eyes had a hungry gleam to them, one Dethre had seen many times as he devoured his victims._

_"__Are you ready?" Antonio's voice was soft, a breath on the wind. "Remember, my Wife and Daughter are not to be harmed. Bring Octavia back to Parkinson Manor, but Pansy can be left next to the corpse of her _darling _husband…or lack of." A cruel laugh split the clearing, dying softly on the air as no one else joined in. But then, when the brief jingle of wedding bells joined the solemn panting of their breaths, they pounced. Greyback, someone Dethre had never been particularly fond of, let out a painted war cry, hands flailing. It may not have been a full moon, but he could definitely cause at least a little damage._

_The guests weren't prepared, and many were felled almost instantly, before they got some semblance of normality back into them. Many apparated away, but a few brave souls remained. The Maid of Honour, Silvestia Hallilula, a Ravenclaw friend of Pansy's from school, fell under one swipe of Bellatrix's wand. And Dynasty Peck's, one of the three other bridesmaids, fell soon after. The final two apparated to safety, trying to beg the stunning bride to join them. But she refused._

_Octavia Parkinson let out a shriek of fury as a hand wrapped securely around her wrist, apparating her away, and Pansy's face had gone stark white, her gleaming eyes fixed on those of her brother's. The brother that had pointed his wand at the _dearest_ Muggle, David Willow, and shouted a curse that would end his life once and for all. Pansy couldn't move, stuck as she was by a wayward curse, and, as the others left, Dethre saw one, sparkling tear fall from his sister's eye._

And now she was gone, the light faded from her eyes. The dress she had been wearing to the wedding, which clearly hadn't been taken off since, dirtied the ground, crimson spewing out from under the dark red cloak, the colours mixing on the damp air. And, although Dethre may have felt slightly guilty for his actions all those years ago, he definitely didn't regret them. Not at all. At least now, his pureblooded line would not be sullied with that of a filthy Muggle.


	13. The End

**The End**

James could feel the worry pumping in his veins as he waited patiently. Okay, so 'patiently' may not have been the right word to use, as he kept accosting Madam Scamander and her fifth-year helper, Adriana Zabini. Healers were being called in from St. Mungo's, but had yet to arrive, which did nothing to alleviate the young seventeen-year-olds worry. He was sure to have permanent lines above his eyes at this end of this from all the frowning he was doing, but he couldn't help it. The stab wound, for that was what it was, had been much more serious than he had previously anticipated. Madam Scamander said that she was lucky to have survived the hit at all, which, of course, worried him even more than it should.

A noise in the doorway jolted him from his thoughts. Thinking it was the Healer's, he rose to join them, slumping down in disappointment when it proved to be just another injured student. A moment later, that disappointment had vanished as he caught a glimpse of the injured figure.

Albus' white face shone out at him, causing a deep pang in James' chest. His younger brother merely look like he was sleeping, white gauze covered the shoulder that James was sure had been injured. But not many shoulder injuries could cause a person to faint like Albus had done.

Unless…

A gasp tore from his throat as Madam Scamander sent Ariana off before pulling the bandages away. Albus' whole shoulder seemed to have been torn off, blood seeping through his ripped cloak. That wasn't the worst part. James was certain he knew what had attacked Albus.

Fenrir Greyback.

They were just lucky that he hadn't been killed and, from the looks of things, Draco Malfoy had gotten there just in time to save his life. Rage, burning hot and active, licked at James' insides, a low growl bursting from deep in his throat. Attempting to rein in the anger, his attention turned back to Cassiopeia, but it did little to appease the utter fury and stifling guilt.

Harry walked over to him.

"Is he…?" James couldn't finish the sentence, his voice trailing off sharply. Harry nodded once, a look of deepest regret on his rapidly ageing face. Both faces turned in the youngest male Potter's direction as Madame Scamander fussed him, her husband, the Care of Magical Creatures Professor, attempting to talk to her. For once, James could see that Luna wasn't as put-together as she had always seemed. Instead, her hands shook coarsely, agony making its presence known on her lined face.

Adriana Zabini had returned, Remus Lupin in tow. The older Werewolf had a deep glower on his face that was uncharacteristic of him; his wife was clutching at his wrist. He began to speak, but James couldn't make out the words, his mind too jumbled with horror.

_He'll be just fine. Miss. Malfoy, on the other hand…_

The four glanced over in their direction, and James' hand moved almost of its own accord towards Cassiopeia, who was still as pale as always. While Remus began to murmur to a now-conscious Albus and Harry moved over to them in a daze, Luna came towards James, one of her hands outstretched as though to protect herself from his wrath. But he didn't move.

"Will she be okay?"

He hated how weak he sounded; innocent and unsure, staring down at the figure of the girl he was utterly in love with, unable to help her through the pain she was feeling.

"I wish I could say yes," Luna's voice was compassionate, and he hated it. "But I cannot tell at such an early stage. If she survives the next week then the chances are in our favour. If not…" She trailed off as she moved into her office, leaving the distraught Potter behind her.

The door banged open, Dalton Grey swanning in with three people James didn't recognise. One of his hands was entwined with that of the girl on his left. Unmatched fury flew through James faster than he knew what to do with it. Before he could fully understand the severity of his future actions, he had Dalton against the wall, wand pointed threateningly at his throat. The girl shrieked while the other two merely looked slightly confused, entertainment flickering over their otherwise-impassive countenances'.

"She was kidnapped and you've already moved on?" His voice was low, furious, but held a touch of hope. "She might die and you've already moved onto another girl?" Dalton let out a choked laugh but didn't reply.

"My name is Ara Grey, Dalton's sister." The girl's voice had a touch of challenge to it, as if daring James to refute her words. Dalton gasped something out and, while James had been certain that the hand-holding had been something more than friendly, he let it go and instead moved back to Cassi's side. Unfortunately for him, Dalton followed, one of his hands reaching out to take the unconscious girl's.

"If she survives the next week, then she will be out of the danger zone," James muttered uncomfortably after a few moments. As much as he hated Dalton, he figured that the other boy deserved some information on the girl he was currently dating. Ara Grey was the only to reply, however, and that was only with a dismissive nod. Thinking that he was intruding, James moved over to Albus and Rose, who'd joined him a few minutes earlier. His head turned slightly in Cassiopeia's direction, but then his head shook slightly, noticing Dalton talking quietly to the unconscious girl. Through his jealously, James only gave her a longing gaze and joined his brother and cousin, both of whom stopped their conversation to watch him carefully.

"I'm sure she feels the same way."

James only let out a derisive laugh, shaking his head firmly. "No she doesn't, not after the way I treated her. I don't know, it just seems to petty to be thinking about things like love when we're in the middle of a war…or we were in the middle of a war. I just want everything to go back to the way it used to be, when we were younger. We didn't have to think about things like this and we could just be us, you know? Things were normal." He broke off with a deep sigh as Albus let out a breathy laugh.

"Dad is the Boy-Who-Lived, our life was never going to be normal." As Rose nodded in agreeing, all three seemed to sober slightly, Albus' face paling as his eyes tested the waters between himself and his older brother. "I guess you know about Greyback's attack on me." His voice had lowered to a whisper, pain rife in his youthful voice.

"Hey, look at me." James put a hand on the other Potter child's shoulder as Lily strode over, glowering at the two. She stood there for a minute staring at the two; Rose had just left, figuring that the two needed time to bond as brothers. "We don't care that you're no longer completely human. We only care that you continue to be Albus, my little brother. Isn't that right, Lily?"

Lily Luna Potter crawled into bed beside her brother, one of her hands resting comfortably on his chest. "That's right, but don't think that you're off the hook for leaving me behind."

And the three Potter children burst into laughter, glad that none of them had lost anyone in the quick but efficient war.

**XxX**

Ara hurried down the passage after Harry Potter, as she could see him ahead of her, conversing in hurried whispers to Ron and Hermione Weasley, both of whom were silent but attentive. Her footsteps drew their attention and the conversation was cut off abruptly, three pairs of haunted eyes twirling in her direction. After an awkward silence, Harry sent the two off and turned once more to Ara.

"I believe you have something for me."

"How did you…?" she cut herself off, "Never mind, I don't want to know." And with that, she reached into her pocket slowly, almost movie-like, and withdrew the yellowing, crumpled parchment from within the voluminous folds of her robes. "Pansy gave it to me, before she…" She stopped again, shaking her head to ward off the traitorous tears.

Harry nodded in understanding, compassion but not pity on his aging face. He turned his attention to the letter, opening it with slightly trembling fingers. Ara was certain he knew what it contained, which angered her slightly, but she stayed silent. The rough, uneven scrawl attacked her vision as she caught a brief glimpse of it, before Harry began to talk once more.

"The Last Will and Testament of Pansy Ophelia Parkinson, as drawn up by Miss. Parkinson herself and witnessed by Silvestia Hallilula, Dynasty Peck, Andrew Peck and Daniel Liian. It is the wish of said Miss. Parkinson in the event of her death or incarceration that all of her possessions, including the House given to her by Madame Hephzibah Smith and the House Elf she received from the same Madame Smith, should be given to her Mother, Octavia Parkinson née Wesley. In the event of her death, the possessions should be relinquished to the Father, Antonio Parkinson, and brother, Dethre Parkinson, of Miss. Parkinson.

Amendments made to the Last Will and Testament of Miss. Parkinson, as drawn up by Miss. Parkinson herself and witnessed by Harry Potter, Blaise Zabini and Stella Zabini. It is the wish of said Miss. Parkinson that in the event of her death or incarceration all possessions, as stated above, minus 3000 of the galleons in the Parkinson and Smith vault, are to be given to one Ara Black (minor) as soon as this letter is received. It is her wish that no money or possessions are to be given to the Father and brother of Miss. Parkinson and they are to have no contact of any sort with Miss. Black.

_The guests weren't prepared, and many were felled almost instantly, before they got some semblance of normality back into them. Many apparated away, but a few brave souls remained. The Maid of Honour, Silvestia Hallilula, a Ravenclaw friend of Pansy's from school, fell under one swipe of Bellatrix's wand. And Dynasty Peck's, one of the three other bridesmaids, fell soon after. The final two apparated to safety, trying to beg the stunning bride to join them. But she refused._

**XxX**

Three weeks had passed and slowly the aftermath of the New Order rebellion had been crushed. Many working for them had either been killed or sent to Azkaban to await trail (since the Sirius Black case, no one had been allowed to be acquitted without trial). Anastasia Krum, the fifth-year Slytherin, had admitted to knowing of Elsa Driana's betrayal, but the other fifteen-year-old had disappeared without a trace. Cassiopeia Malfoy had retreated into a coma, but Luna Scamander was certain that she would survive in the long run. The only question was when she would wake up.

James Potter was once again sitting beside her bed, one of his large hands encasing her smaller one, talking to the lifeless figure. Albus was seated on his bed, rolling his eyes at the purely lovesick expression on his elder brothers face, while Rose, who had just entered, placed a mug of bitter black liquid in front of him.

"You know, talking to an unconscious person is the first sign of madness," a giggling voice smirked, interrupting James' flow. A frown broke across the handsome features as he glanced up, staring almost unseeingly at the figure currently being tied to the bed opposite. She seemed ill somehow, and thinner than the last time any of them had seen her, but she had a malicious glint in her eyes that had been absent before. The coldness vanished abruptly as her eyes connected with Albus', but was back in an instant when they slid over to James and Rose, both of whom were glowering at her.

The Slytherin let out another giggle, eyes wide and unseeing, which was the first indication any of them got that something wasn't quite right. The second indication was that she had allowed herself to be captured in the first place, which was something very unusual for someone of her caliber, someone who would have had many people at her beck and call for a hiding place. The third indication was the girl beside her, whose dark eyes were fixed with worry upon her friends face, a look of panic in those shining black orbs.

"Elsa?" Albus' voice had quieted to a whisper, one of his hands rising to hers. Elsa winced as her eyes connected with his once more, milky white mixing with emerald green. She wasn't blind, that much could be told from the startling clarity with which she gazed at those around her, but she definitely didn't seem all there, which caused a slight jolt of panic to flow through him, despite his harsh protests.

"Albus…" She let out a scream as Tonks and Kingsley, the two who'd brought her in, almost threw her down on one of the harsh, sterile beds and tied her hands and feet so she couldn't move. But despite her pleading words, Albus did not move. He stayed still, silent, unmoving. Rose placed a gentle hand on his arm, but it did little to chase away the pain.

A phial of glittering opaque liquid was placed to her mouth, but she did not swallow. Tonks forced her mouth open, the unknown liquid fluttering inside, being forced down roughly. And then they stepped back, watching as she slowly stopped moving, eyes staring straight ahead, unmoving.

"What is your name?" Kingsley's voice was cold and harsh, a shallow edge adding to the fear that coated it. Tonks stayed silent, one hand on her wand in case of complications.

"Elsa Wilhemina Driana."

Both adults seemed to forget about the three awake teenagers currently in the room, all of whom had turned their attention to the events folding out. Albus had a look of pain on his thin face, though whether that was from the jolt in his shoulder from the nearness of the full moon or the fact that he was seeing Elsa again was hard to tell. James looked furious. Here was the girl who had put Cassiopeia in critical condition and no one was doing anything about it. Rose only looked on knowingly, wondering what truths would be forced to spill from Elsa's lips as the Veritaserum took effect.

"Why did you betray Cassiopeia Lyra Malfoy? What was in it for you?"

"Everything." Elsa let out a high giggle, eyes rolling in her head. "They promised me everything that I didn't have. _She _was always the loved one, with her connections to the Malfoys and the Potters. No one ever cared about little Elsa Driana, the plain orphaned girl. Even compared to Anastasia I was unnoticed, but they promised me riches, they promised me the world, they promised me Albus."

"Albus?" Kingsley asked, ignoring the shocked gasp from said boy. "What does that mean?"

"She had him wrapped around her little finger. He would do anything for her when _I _was his girlfriend. With her out of the picture, we could finally be together." Her crazed giggle turned to sobs; loud, choking sobs. "But that'll never happen now. I'm sure he hates me for what I did to the girl he's in love with. I should have never have fought for something that could never be. I should have never done any of it."

"You're in love with her?" James' voice was low and deadly. "You're in love with _my _Cassi?"

Albus stayed silent, a frown on his face. There was no sign of the affirmative or negative on his impassive countenance, which, if possible, spurred James on even further. If he was being honest with himself, the eldest Potter child knew that he had no claim over Cassiopeia or what she did, but he couldn't help the familiar lick of jealousy and anger that reached into his chest at the thought of Albus with his hands all over her.

Albus shook his head, "I may have a soft spot for her, but I'm not in love with her, not like you are. Anyway, what I feel is purely platonic. I was halfway in love with someone else before she decided to betray us." Elsa's head shot up, surprise registering on her thin face. "But now I guess she'll be going to Azkaban for assisting kidnapping and attempted murder, right?"

"I'm afraid that is the case," Kingsley murmured, a frown on his face. "I wish it could be some other way, but Miss. Driana's crime is worthy of her punishment. And we fear that she may not be in the right state of mind in any case."

"What does that mean?" Rose asked, one of her hands wrapping around James', but he had calmed down slightly after his brothers confession. She had previously stayed silent, worry for her family and friends on her face, but now her words were harsh, unforgiving.

"It means that whatever the Parkinson's' did to her has made her slightly insane, or so we believe," Tonks informed them, one of her hands stroking lightly across Elsa's wispy hair. "I wish we could help her, but it is up to Mr. Brocovitch, the Mayor of Azkaban, to decide her fate. They have the power to give her counseling lessons in prison but the chance of them actually doing so is very slim."

"Why?"

"Brocovitch prefers to keep the money for other things," was the simple but infuriating reply. Albus frowned, ready to fight for Elsa's rights, but a quiet voice interrupted before he could.

"You'd need me in order to properly convict her, correct?" Cassiopeia asked, rising from her lying position. James was immediately at her side, pulling himself onto the bed next to her and resting his arm around her shoulder, but he did not speak. Both Aurors nodded. "So you couldn't convict her if I refuse to testify?" Another nod, but Tonks looked like she wished to say something. James interrupted before she could.

"But why would you do that? She wished you dead, that's not something that can just be forgotten." James' voice was incredulous, one of his hands clutching uselessly at Cassi's. Her startling sapphire eyes fixed softly onto his own as she turned her head, biting her lip slightly. A small gulp fell from his throat at the sight, but she seemed to have missed it. Unfortunately, Albus hadn't.

"Sometimes you just have to forgive and forget," the young Malfoy suggested, a small smirk falling upon her light pink lips. Her pale face seemed even whiter under the bright light of the Hospital Wing, attracting James' attention to the glassy sheen. A slight look of worry took over his features as she spoke once more, a sheepish grin on her face. "I actually just think that she'll be good for Al. He'll need someone who's not family while he copes with his … problem."

Rose rolled her eyes, speaking in a voice reminiscent of a young Hermione Granger. "As if Al would want anything more to do with someone like that. She's nothing more than an unfriendly toad." _("Unfriendly toad?" _Cassiopeia muttered in James' ear, receiving a shrug from the eldest Potter child.) "And, anyway, even if Cassi decides that she doesn't want to testify, they'll be many other things she can be convicted for. Conspiracy against the Ministry, for one. I read about it in The Ministry: A History by Bathilda Bagshot. She also wrote Hogwarts…"

"A History, yes, we get it _Hermione,_" James snapped sarcastically, in no mood to listen to his cousins' bookwormish antics, presuming, of course, that 'bookwormish' was actually a word.

"I think it's fascinating," Cassiopeia murmured with a grin. I mean, I would have loved to have met the famous Bathilda. She's written so many books. I still maintain that Hogwarts: A History is her best works. I never even knew that you couldn't apparate within Hogwarts. The spells are so strong."

"Well, I suppose it is kind of interesting," James murmured quietly in her ear, prompting smirks from both his cousin and his brother, the latter of whom muttered a hushed 'whipped' under his breath. Rose snorted out a laugh, her hand wrapping around Cassi's pale one on the bed. The Malfoy had released James' hand, much to the Potter's discontent, and was currently brushing it through her hair in an attempt to calm the erratic waves.

"You are correct, Miss Weasley." Kingsley spoke in a quiet whisper, bringing the attention back to the three on the opposite side of the Hospital Wing. "We _could _still send her to Azkaban for conspiracy against the Ministry or something of the sort, but she wouldn't be in there for too long. Anyway, she is only a minor so, although she could be sent to Azkaban, the longest she could be in there is five years, and then it is mandatory for her to finish schooling and such like things."

"She's only fifteen," Cassiopeia murmured, forgetting, like the others, that Elsa was even in the room. "Everyone makes mistakes at some time in their lives, hers might just have resulted in my death. But she's not actually that bad, and now that she knows there's nothing going on between Al and I…" She let her words trail off at James' deep growl. "Anyway, I'm sure if we just put some stipulations up about her use of magic, then everything will be fine."

"Everything will _not _be fine," a voice snarled from the doorway, a voice that had clearly been eavesdropping on the whole conversation and could no longer deny what he was hearing. Lucius Malfoy seemed thinner than the last time Cassi had seen him. His long, blond hair had been pulled into a sharp ponytail at the nape of his neck, tied with an emerald green bow that seemed to symbolize his former House. Worry had sunken his features, highlighting the sharp, grey eyes that every male Malfoy seemed to sport. Cassiopeia's own deep blue ones came from the Greengrass side of the family.

_"__Grandpére," _Cassi's voice had risen happily, her short arms reaching out towards the eldest living Malfoy. James had moved away, a small frown crossing his countenance at the clear display of affection. It was jealousy, plain and simple, but not of the relationship between granddaughter and granddad. It was more jealously because of the closeness between the two, closeness James had never had with her. _"Que voulez-vous dire? Tout peut revenir à la normale. _I'm free, _Grandpére. _They will be locked up."

"But you want her to go free." James had to jolt in surprise at the pure English accent Lucius Malfoy sported. Living in France for fifteen years certainly hadn't gotten rid of it, except for a tiny lilting edge that Cassiopeia had also received. "She could have killed you. I will not allow for it."

"Please," Cassiopeia grabbed his hand, "Trust me. _Croyez-moi_."

Lucius hesitated, but, like many others, it appeared that he lacked the ability to say no to the charming young Malfoy, and he nodded, sighing heavily. Cassiopeia pumped her fist in the air with a small yelp of triumph. James moved back to her side as Lucius stood, his hand encased once more in hers. Lucius' eyes flickered towards them for a moment before glancing up at James' face, noting with some degree of concern the utter adoration that plagued the Potter's face. He said nothing, however, gave a harsh nod towards the two Aurors, ignored Albus and Rose, and left in a swirling flurry of cloak.

"A Hearing must still be scheduled at the Ministry," Kingsley murmured, once more attempting to bring the attention back to the task at hand. "But if you wish, as you seem to, to support her freedom, then you may speak up. For now…" He trailed off as he and Tonks pulled Elsa up.

Albus looked pained, and not completely from his Werewolf bite. One of his hands had risen slightly, almost in a wave, before it fell to his side once more as a sigh fell from his lips. Elsa looked just as sad, a soft puff of air breaking from between her clasped lips.

"I just want you to know," her voice was soft and shy, like honey. "That I _am _sorry. If I could change what I did, I would."

And then she was gone, as if she'd never been, and others had rushed inside, having clearly been waiting outside. James was pushed into the background, forgotten about, at least for the time being. But he had to notice that his hand remained entwined around Cassiopeia's until they were alone once more.

**XxX**

Finally the last of their family, Astoria Malfoy, left, and the two of them were alone once more, with the exception of Albus and Rose, who had conveniently relocated themselves on the opposite side of the Hospital Wing, Albus wincing every so often from the pain in his shoulder.

James had his hand still entwined with hers, but they were both silent, eyes fixed on different points. After a moment, Cassi squeezed lightly, his deep blue eyes flickering towards his. James found himself almost cowering before the fierce gaze, but it was certainly a relief that what she had gone through hadn't broken her spirit. His eyes lowered to the notebook Scorpius, her twin, had placed roughly into her lap. The embossed cover blinked up at him, bringing with his Gryffindor courage he hadn't even known he possessed.

"I guess what you said about me was a lie?" Cassi phrased the words like a question, but James could see the statement. She was certain of the truth, which, he supposed, was actually a very good thing. "You know," she added when he failed to speak, "How I'm…"

_"__Yes," _his voice rose to a squeak, cutting her off mid-sentence. For once, he didn't mind the silence that followed the word. Instead, he found it comforting rather than awkward. "You're right." He gave her a sheepish grin. "It was a lie. I'm still not entirely sure why I said any of it."

"I am."

"Oh?" He sounded surprised, eyebrows raised in a sharp arc. His lips pursed slightly, eyes burning into hers, as though he was attempting to break into her thoughts. She gently pulled her hand out from under his and used it to brush a strand of auburn hair over her shoulder before she placed it on the side of his face, fingertips lightly brushing over his lips.

"It was denial, pure and simple. I'm a Malfoy, a Slytherin, a Pureblood. I'm everything you're not, and that's not a bad thing. It probably has a lot to do with Matty Davidson as well," James flinched at the name. "But I think you didn't want to be labeled like your Father and Grandfather."

James nodded. She was right. It had probably been more to do with her red hair than anything else that dictated her actions. "I didn't want to fall under the Potter curse, although," he let out a slight chuckle, "It seems that Al is already on his way to breaking it."

To his relief, Cassi giggled too, before sobering sharply. Her calloused palm was still touching his face, and now it moved slightly downwards, to the back of his neck. Being hospitalized, she couldn't exactly move, but she could move him to her, and that was exactly what she planned to do.

Her lips had connected with his before he knew what was happening, but he found himself much to happy to care. One of her hands fisted in his hair, dragging him impossibly closer. His lips pulled themselves from hers for a moment while he tried to speak, "What about…" She was kissing him again before he could finish his sentence, and he wasn't complaining.

"No, Cassi, stop."

She pouted, frowning deeply as he pulled back. His hands framed her face perfectly as she finally slumped back against the pillows. He fluffed them up as he tried to bring forth the Gryffindor courage that seemed to have forsaken him. _What if it had all been a mistake? What if she decided she still wanted Dalton Grey? _Finally, James stopped sharply. If she still wanted to be with Grey, then he would let her go to keep her happy.

"What about Grey?"

"What about him?" Her voice was quiet, confused. She was clearly expecting him to respond, but that didn't happen. Instead, a voice from the doorway jolted them both out of their self-imposed bubble.

"It's good to see you again, honey." Dalton Grey pressed a kiss to her forehead, making James practically green with envy. The girl who had come in after him was unknown to the eldest Potter, but he found it extremely hard to concentrate when Cassi, who he had just been snogging, had a boyfriend who was currently all over her. Okay, so maybe 'all over her' wasn't exactly the correct term to use. They were only talking, but to James that was bad enough.

"This is Ara," Dalton grinned at the girl behind him, reaching out to grab one of her hands.

Ara smirked at Cassi, who smiled back. "I believe we're cousins or something," Ara murmured. "Your Dad is my Mums nephew, I believe." Cassi nodded, eyes probing Dalton's.

"It's over."

"I figured it would be." Cassi's hand strained at James' but he pulled it back furiously.

"Would anyone care to explain what the hell is going on?" He stood up, fuming, eyes gleaming at the three in front of him. Cassi attempted to calm him down, but it didn't appear to work. "Explain."

"Don't shout at her."

"Oh," he let out a sarcastic laugh, "And who do you think you're supposed to be?"

"Her boyfriend," Dalton's voice held cynicism. James flinched at the words, grinding his teeth furiously. "But, anyway, this isn't about mine and Cassi's relationship…" he paused, frowning slightly, "Okay, so maybe it is." He let out a nervous laugh and glanced at Cassi, who was gazing at James with a nervous expression. "I guess I've got to do this all myself, huh?" She only gave him a small grin. "Our relationship was fake."

That was blunt.

James found himself frowning, the words trying to fit together in his mind. A tiny glance in Cassiopeia's way showed her with her upper lip mashed between her teeth, nervous eagerness prevalent on the thin, child-like features. Ara, the girl behind Dalton, had a cruel smirk on her lips, one that James was certain he would never or had never seen on anyone else. Her long hair had been meticulously tied in a plait that made its way down her back, curly edges coming free from the stiff do. James was certain that he would have found her striking, if not pretty, had he not been absolutely devoted to Cassiopeia.

"What do you mean _'fake'_?" James allowed his hatred of the younger boy to cloud his judgment as he held Cassiopeia closer to him, one of his arms wrapping around her slim waist. Derision painted the usually soft tones of his voice, a low pang of hatred that seemed misplaced on the warm features. Cassi had always been the harsher one, having been taken from her family at such a young age and then been placed in Slytherin, the House most hated for its tie to Voldemort.

"We mean that we only pretended to date to see your reaction." Cassi was the one to speak now, braving the dangerous edge that James had taken on. "It was never anything real. I'm sorry that we lied, but I was so hurt and upset and…"

But James had kissed her before she could finish the sentence, his hands gripping harshly at the sides of her face. He belatedly heard Dalton and Ara leave, but, just like usual, he was too wrapped up in the girl before him that he barely even realised their departure. Her breaths were coming in sharp little puffs, breaking him once again from his thoughts, and he pulled back roughly, speaking the three words he had wanted to say since the beginning of the year. And although many people may believe that it was much to soon to say the words he wished to, he knew that he meant them with his whole heart, as much of a girl as that made him sound like.

"I love you."

And Cassiopeia smiled, a bright grin that lit up her whole face. "I love you, too."


End file.
